A Job Million PRs Would Die for
by saiansha
Summary: Fresh out of university, you never imagined that Tony Stark would offer you your first job. You may want to reconsider, because you will be handling the public image of someone who isn't exactly an Avenger. It is a job a million PRs would die for. You might just end up dying for real.
1. That Time We Went Networking

**A/N:** So, this is my very first Loki fanfic and my very first time writing a Reader character. I study PR myself and I have been toying with how it would be like to do PR for everyone's favourite alien Viking god. Like the Reader character here, I too don't have any experience actually being a publicist to any "celebrity", but I wanted to explore what it would be like to do something strategic for a change rather than the usual grunt work us interns get swamped with.

Hope you enjoy this fic! All mistakes in interpreting the profession are my own. I welcome any and all constructive criticism and comments! There isn't much Loki in this chapter or the next, since I'm just setting things up, but the ball will get rolling soon. You may also follow this story on **my AO3: saiansha.**

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Life takes very interesting turns sometimes.

One moment, I was fresh out of college. I was attending overpriced networking events in uncomfortable corporate attire to snag an entry level job for which I was overqualified in a half-decent PR agency that would pay peanuts for salary. The next, I was in the Avengers Tower penthouse, sipping a Sidecar, dressed in my fanciest cocktail dress, hobnobbing with none other than the genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist Tony Stark.

My shoulder still tingled from when Thor had accidentally brushed against me. I hadn't even recognised him in his burgundy shirt and dark brown pants until he bent down to make himself audible.

"Forgive me, my lady. It was not my intention to graze you so impudently."

I had managed to smile and stutter out a, "N-no no worries!" before rushing in the opposite direction.

Presently, Stark was wrapping up a conversation with Mr. Patel, an NBC head honcho and my ticket to this uber-cool soiree, before turning his attention to me.

"So, what's your story, kid? You escorting this guy around to pay for grad school?" He grinned.

"Beg your pardon?" I spluttered. Mr. Patel, presumably used to Stark's sense of humour, merely coughed beside me.

"I'm just kidding, kid. You look too refined for Patel here anyway." He teased. "What's your name?"

I told him my name, a tad coolly. This was not how I had expected a conversation with the famous Tony Stark to go. Not that I had expected any conversation with him, mind.

"And what do you do?"

I told him I had studied PR and where I had studied.

"How'd you end up as a plus-one to Patel here?"

"She's best friends with my niece, actually." Mr. Patel answered for me. "She persuaded her father to introduce my niece to a friend of his, a professor whom she wanted to shadow. As thanks, I have taken this young lady under my wing to help her settle in New York and swing a job at a PR agency. My original plus-one, someone from my team, could not make it to your party, so I asked our friend here if she'd like to come."

I nodded in confirmation.

Stark turned back to me. He had an oddly appraising look on his face. "So, you're still looking for a job?"

"Unfortunately."

"And you're obviously comfortable with celebrities." His tone was casual, but there was clearly something the man was driving towards.

"I guess?" I half-asked, half-said.

"No, that wasn't a question. It was a fact. You are. I've been watching you. You seem at ease. Well, at least you haven't whipped out a pink diary and fluffy pen and asked Capsicle to give you an autograph or asked Thor if you could braid his hair."

I let out a snort. "Well, I _am_ awed. But, no, I wouldn't go to _such_ extremes."

"And you can hold your drink."

Now, _that_ I wasn't so sure about. This was my second cocktail. And, even though I'd only been taking little sips, I could already feel it going to my head. On top of that, Stark's random questioning was making me only more nervous, which prompted me to drink more. That, in turn, made my head fuzzier and increased my nervousness and so on.

"Is he bothering you?" A new voice asked.

I flicked my eyes to the left as a strawberry-blonde woman draped herself over Stark's arm. Virginia Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and possibly the only person who could rule Stark with an iron fist, if you pardoned the pun.

"Pepper!" Mr. Patel declared. "Long time no see!"

"Ramesh!" Pepper trilled, stepping forward to hug Mr. Patel. "Oh, what has it been, three days?" She asked with a twinkle in her eyes. "I cannot thank you enough for that marvelous feature story you did on me and the company!"

"On the contrary, I cannot thank _you_ enough for agreeing to this interview! It has become one of the top most watched segment of our entire network and has already gathered upwards of 50 million views."

I watched with interest as the CEO, who was the epitome of calm and confidence in public, waved around her hands in embarrassment.

"Oh, come on, Pepper, take credit where it is due."

"Oh, don't worry, I will. Especially since Tony hardly gives me any." She remarked drily.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry. 12% credit does not do you justice." Stark said with the air of a man who had repeated this statement countless times already. "What do I need to do to get you to forgive me, damn it?"

"Come to a press conference. Give an interview. Take some of the press around on a tour of the Tower so that they stop fearing that the Avengers are making plans for world domination." Pepper replied, also speaking with the air of a woman who had been repeating the same line since time immemorial. It must be their relationship trope.

"Do PR, yeah, yeah. Ooh! Speaking of!" Stark swung around, clapped his hands and pointed them at me. Pepper turned around to properly look at me.

"Hi!" Pepper said, brightly. "I'm Pepper!"

"I know!" I said, then remembered I had to introduce myself as well.

"I haven't seen you around here!"

"That might be because it is my first time here. I'm Mr. Patel's plus-one." I smiled.

"Ooh, an intern! How exciting!"

"Actually, she's his niece's best friend." Stark interrupted. "She's looking for a job, has great education, looks sharp, talks sharp and –"

" _Tony,_ " Pepper said, in a warning tone, almost as if she had realised what line of thought he was following. I was intrigued, because certainly, _I_ hadn't managed to figure out why Stark was showing so much interest in me. Mr. Patel shared my look of confusion.

"What are your credentials, kid?" Stark asked as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"I have interned at 3 PR agencies, one in the UK, one in US and one in France. I speak French. I held a merit scholarship at university and my GPA was 3.93."

"There! Excellent credentials as well!" He turned to look at Pepper as if he were a proud parent. Why the hell was he so interested in my academic accomplishments?

"Tony, she doesn't even know what you're getting her into!" Pepper hissed.

"She will when I tell her. I'm not going to withhold any information from her."

"Tony, she's just a child!" Pepper cried.

"Um…" I spoke up, unwilling to be spoken about in third person any longer when I was right there, especially when my age or maturity were under question. "I can legally drink if that's what you're worried about." I added, rather lamely.

"Sweetie," Pepper turned to me, an oddly maternal look on her face, "I'm not underestimating you. But –"

" _But_ , no firm or person that is more experienced is ready to take on this case," Stark butted in, "And I'm thinking we might need a fresh mind for this!"

" _Exactly!_ She has a _fresh mind_!" Pepper rounded on him, now borderline hysterical. "A mind that has a long way yet to go and shouldn't be subjected to –"

My drink was long forgotten. It was for the best, for I felt that I could not hold any more liquor as I struggled to follow this bizarre conversation.

"Pepper, Pepper," Stark soothed, but Pepper batted his hands away. "It's just an experiment, and whether it works out or not, we all will be there to support her! Look, maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe instead of some jaded hack we need a young, open-minded, social media-savvy woman!"

"Urgh! I give up!" Pepper exclaimed. "Listen," she added, and now clasped my free hand in both of hers. "You don't have to agree to _anything_ he says, okay?"

I nodded dumbly. It sounded right. I didn't really need to agree to anything Stark said. It was another matter that I didn't even know what I was supposed to agree or not agree to. With a long suffering sigh, Pepper released my hand, patted my shoulder and sashayed away elsewhere without another word to Stark. I looked at Mr. Patel, silently beseeching him to whirl us away as well. Stark merely pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Kid, do you want a job?" Stark suddenly spoke up, looking me straight in the eye.

"Of course," I shrugged, nonchalantly. He scowled at me as if I had said something stupid.

" _I mean_ ," He gritted his teeth, "Do you want to do PR for the Avengers?"

I blinked. And then, because I did not know what else to do, I blinked some more. If I had thought that Tony Stark joking about me moonlighting as an escort was unusual and unexpected, then Tony Stark possibly offering a job to a straight-outta-college girl who had barely any full-time work experience at a party at Avengers Tower was even more so.

"What?" I finally managed to squawk. At this point, I was past being articulate.

"The Avengers. You know, the people who are hosting this party and the people whom this tower is named after. The people who saved this very city a while ago. Ring a bell?"

I looked at Mr. Patel in terror. Surely this was some weird, real life variation of "Top 10 Anime Pranks That Went Too Far" that Stark was playing on me. And Mr. Patel was in on it too, which is why I had been added to the guest list so easily. And, anytime now, someone would thrust a camera in my face and yell "Gotcha!"

Mr. Patel did not confirm my suspicions.

"Yes or no, kid?" Stark's voice snapped me back to attention.

Something in his voice signaled to me how serious he was. That was probably why Pepper was so alarmed; she was right to be wary of hiring a person who had only just graduated a month or so ago to manage such a complex task. Curiously, her disquiet seemed to also stem from some odd but touching concern for my mental wellbeing. Apparently Stark felt she was right to be wary on both counts – though I wasn't sure why he would be wary about my mental health. Surely I did not look like I was going to have a nervous breakdown any second? Yet, he had insisted on going ahead with the offer anyway.

And so, more out of deference to that seriousness and my damning curiosity than any real understanding of what I was throwing myself into, I replied:

"Yes."


	2. That Time We Went for an Interview

**Chapter Summary:** You're back at the Avengers Tower for a hastily-scheduled interview. How willing is Stark to overlook your lack of experience? And exactly what project does he have in mind for you?

 **A/N:** I am really thrilled to see so many of you have been so interested by the story that you've added alerts/added it to favourites. Thank you so much to everyone, and to 44 for the review. No Loki in this chapter either, but our favourite resident mischief-manager will make an appearance next chapter for sure. Leave a review if you like!

* * *

I shuffled outside the Starbucks, deliberating between getting my caffeine fix to tide over the exhaustion and listening to the voice of reason saying that the dehydration from the caffeine was going to make my hangover worse. With a sigh of defeat, I stepped inside. Sadly, the enticing aroma of coffee did me absolutely no favours today. I felt the nausea rising in my belly. With anything that resembled, smelled, looked or sounded like coffee out of the menu, I decided on the only thing that could now lift my spirits: a hot chocolate.

I had woken up at 7 a.m. on a Sunday and was currently sipping a hot chocolate to nurse a hangover – and I blamed Tony Stark. After my hasty "yes" to Stark's question if I wanted to work for him – for the _Avengers_ – he had asked me what I was doing the next morning.

"Sleeping in, I suppose. It's Sunday." I had shrugged.

"No you're not. You're coming in at 9 a.m. tomorrow and we're going to chat about my offer."

"What? Why?" I had asked, aghast.

"Have you never interviewed for a job or internship, kid? Please don't tell me you're new to even that!"

"Of course I have!" I cried, indignantly. "I just meant, why tomorrow?"

"Oh. Well, I like to get the ball rolling as soon as possible." And before I could ask anything further, he patted my shoulder. "Nice chatting, kid. See you tomorrow. Patel," he added and gave the man a finger salute before sauntering off.

I had had to remind myself that I was no longer in university, where I could wake up at 10:30 a.m. three days of the week to stroll in for an 11 a.m class. This was real life and real life apparently meant coming in for an interview at 9 a.m. on a Sunday. I had felt more reconciled to the idea after I had downed a couple more drinks, which brought me back to the predicament today.

I finished the hot chocolate, primped myself one last time, grabbed my folder and marched out. With an uneasy feeling that was from more than just the hangover and exhaustion, I approached the entrance. Avengers Tower had looked welcoming and exciting last night; now, it just looked sterile and imposing. The top of the atrium itself reached a couple of floors high. There were walkways on either side that looked over the large circular reception desk. The atrium was flanked by a wall of frosted glass bearing the Avengers' insignia. The water flowing down the glass cut pleasantly through the beeping pagers, clacking heels and muffled conversations, and I felt my spirits lifting a bit.

"Hi, I have a 9 a.m. with Mr. Stark," I gave one of the unoccupied receptionists my details.

She stared at her screen for a minute. "It is for the job interview, right?"

"Yeah."

The woman picked up the telephone and asked facilities to send someone over to escort me. While we waited, she printed a visitors card with my name and photo and instructed me to wear it. Soon enough, a man in a dark suit walked up to me. He told me to follow him and led me inside an elevator. He held his ID against a pad and pressed a button and off we were, rising up to what was definitely going to be an intense experience. I closed my eyes and relaxed my shoulders. _It's going to be fine_ , I told myself. Worst case, I flunk the interview and Tony Stark forgets my name (if he even remembers it still). Best case… well, I dared not give in to the desperate hope that something as fantastical and sudden as this could come to fruition.

Sooner than I could have guessed, the elevator dinged and I opened my eyes. Confusion flitted across my mind as I realised that we were not in some conference room but at the penthouse level. The man from facilities – or an agent of SHIELD – must have sensed my hesitation, for he said, "Through there, miss."

"Thank you," I replied, shakily and moved to exit.

"Good luck."

I nodded stiffly as I walked ahead. It was difficult reconciling the scene of the quiet living room before me with the buzzing one from last night.

"Ah, there you are!" A voice came from my right and I snapped my head around. "Thought you had copped out and decided to sleep in. Wouldn't have blamed you if you did, I can't imagine why I told you to come at this time of the day."

Stark was shuffling about a huge open island kitchen, dressed in workout clothes and drinking some eerie green concoction. He was not alone; at the counter sat two women, looking unenthused but not miffed about being summoned to work on the weekend. Were they SHIELD agents? Was I going to be vetted? I had never even scored a parking ticket but I hoped they were not going to grill me about my browser history.

I took in a deep breath and slipped into my confident PR alter-ego. "Good morning, Mr. Stark," I began as I approached the trio. "Thank you so much for asking me to be here. I know it must not be often that you ask people in person if they would like to work for you."

"'Tony' is fine." He waved. "Have a seat!"

I awkwardly settled myself into one of the bar stools and rested my folder containing my resumes and portfolio on the counter.

"This," He began, pointing to the woman to the right, "Is Sarah Shaw, from HR." Sarah gave me a polite smile. "And this," he gestured towards the other woman, "Is Stella Lee. Stella is the head of our PR team."

I could feel my heart drop down my stomach. _Of course_ he already had a full-fledged PR team, packed with people who had no less than at least 5 years of experience! Had I really been so drunk and hungover that I had not even wondered how the Avengers had been managing their PR so far?

Stella beamed at me and extended her hand. "Hi, how are you? It is always nice to meet the people whom Tony has cherry-picked himself!"

"I think I still have an interview to go through before I can claim to be cherry-picked by Mr. Sta – I mean, Tony." I smiled and shook her hand.

"Kid, do you want any breakfast? I hope you ate before coming here. But, we do have some bagels, if you like." Tony asked as he plonked himself between the two women.

I had only been able to stomach some yoghurt in the morning. I was hungry, but I did not want to eat in front of my interviewers and answer questions with food in my mouth. I also did not want to risk throwing up in front of them should my stomach still be playing up.

"No, thank you very much."

"What about coffee?"

"No, thank you."

"So, dear," Stella began. "What interests you about PR?"

I opened my folder as I gathered my thoughts. I handed each of them a copy of my resume and passed along my writing portfolio. "I have always been fascinated by the power of words. A few well-chosen words can accomplish something monumental. Conversely, a few ill-chosen words could destroy years of good work and reputation. That is why I am interested in PR, because I want to be able to use words to capture imagination, influence people and shape opinion."

"And why do you want to do PR for the Avengers?"

I huffed internally. First, it was not my idea to apply for the job and second, why the hell not? Neither of those reasons were going to sound half as clever as they did in my mind, however, so I mulled over the question.

"I want to do PR for the Avengers because they are subjected to a lot of scrutiny. Every day, someone writes or speaks about them in a new angle. The more they get written or spoken about, the more chances there are to build or damage their reputation. The latter is especially crucial, because no matter how much good the team can do, there will always be voices of criticism and opposition. We can't let all the cynicism – valid or invalid – detract from the good they do. And we can't be complacent enough to say that their actions will speak for themselves. The Avengers need help not just getting their side across, but also reassuring people that despite their uncommon lives, they cherish very common things."

Stella and Sarah were nodding silently, while Stark was tapping his index finger against his cheek. I wondered if I had overdone it.

"Did you rehearse that?" Stark asked at last. The question was cynical, but the way he asked it was not.

I shrugged. "Of course. No one goes to an interview without asking themselves why they want to work for that company." I was proud that my inebriation had not stopped me from at least putting myself in the headspace of an interview.

"Very direct." Sarah tilted her head.

"I try to be." I said.

"Good," Tony agreed, "But in our line of work we can't always hope to be fully direct. Can you deal with ambiguity?"

I pursed my lips. I had never taken a class on PR ethics and I was wondering if that would have helped me prepare a response. "PRs deal with ambiguity every day. I understand and support not revealing every single detail to the public. The need for complete or partial honesty depends on the context. But, I will not be dishonest or deceptive."

"What if we asked you to?" Tony interrogated. I was beginning to hate how his gaze pierced into me.

"I hope you won't."

"But what if we do?"

"I don't think you will." I mumbled.

"Why do you say that?"

"I…" I began, my gaze flitting about helplessly. Stella and Sarah were being no help. I looked upwards, scrunching my eyes, praying to whatever god that existed to help me out. "You just don't seem like that sort of a person. You wouldn't be an Avenger if you wanted to operate that way."

"Kid, we're not exactly the Twelve Apostles here," Tony began, "But I suppose you're right. You say that I don't 'seem like that sort of a person'. Would you say you can figure out people quickly?"

"I'm not really a behavioural psychologist," I said, "But, I can work out who is going to be useful and who is going to be cooperative. I can work out whom I'm not going to get along with, for sure." I joked weakly.

"Oh, you don't need to be an expert to figure out who exactly you're going to dislike," Stark muttered under his breath. I frowned, clueless about what he meant. Before I could follow up, Stella interrupted.

"So what areas of PR interest you?"

"I have studied community relations, crisis communications and non-profit PR. I have a lot of hands-on experience in corporate communications. Most of that has involved media relations, but I did a benchmarking exercise for the CMO of a pharmaceutical company once."

"What sort of benchmarking?"

"Our PR agency was in charge of doing an image rebranding of the CMO. We conducted some interviews with his team members to find out his strengths and weaknesses as a communicator. I was responsible for finding common sentiments among the team members and jotting down opportunities for the CMO."

The three of them exchanged a knowing look and I fidgeted yet again in my seat. I was fast becoming tired of being kept in the dark for whatever Tony wanted out of me. At this point I would not have been upset if I had made a slip-up as long as they told me what it was that I had done, or not done.

"How well do you handle yourself in a crisis?" Sarah asked.

I managed to mask my look of irritation with one of polite interest. "If you are asking about how well I perform crisis communications, then I would not know. I have only studied about the process and while I am aware of the fundamentals, I would by no means call myself an expert. Otherwise, however, I do manage myself well in a crisis. Yes, I get stressed easily but I keep my head and work through the situation to the best of my ability."

Sarah nodded at me. There were a few moments of silence during which three of them poured over my resume, cover letter and portfolio. Then, Stella turned to Tony and nodded. He clapped his hands softly and turned back to look at me. I was wondering if I should break the silence, when thankfully Stella spoke up.

"Do you have any questions for us?"

I had prepared a bunch of intelligent questions. I could have asked about what it was like to do PR for the Avengers on a daily basis. I could have asked them what sorts of challenges I would face at work. I could have asked them to describe their PR efforts in the aftermath of that freaky event in London.

But, my curiosity was consuming me and my irritation was only adding fuel to the fire. So, I asked, "Is this standard procedure for you guys? I know that a lot of PRs get jobs due to networking. But, I doubt the owner and former CEO of Stark Industries jumps at the chance to rope in a complete rookie he met at his party, especially when he already has a highly experienced, well-oiled PR team."

"Sarah, note down her details, please. I'll let you know the final verdict." Tony piped up suddenly. "Stella, thanks for your help. I'm sorry I dragged you both here today, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Sarah and Stella nodded at me and without anything more concrete than a simple 'have a nice day', they made their way to the elevator. I looked around in ever rising bafflement. Was I dismissed? How badly had I fucked up?

"Kid, I know you have a lot of questions. You seem like a very questioning sort. And I promise I'll answer your questions. But first, I need you to sign something."

It was then that I noticed that Sarah had left behind two sheets of paper on the slab: non-disclosure forms.

I raised an eyebrow. "A non-disclosure for an interview?"

"I'm about to tell you something highly confidential."

He stared at me impassively, waiting for me to look over the documents. Having no other option, I began skimming through the form. It was a standard non-disclosure, nothing extraordinary, but still enough to whoop my ass to infinity and beyond should I ever utter anything beyond the fact that I had gone for an interview to Avengers Tower. Of course, that was not going to stop me from telling my mother every little detail about today. I had sent her a text saying I had an interview lined up for today, but little else. My hungover self hadn't been interested in explaining to my mother how I had secured an interview with Tony Stark, especially when I wasn't entirely sure myself.

I signed the forms and pushed them towards Tony.

"There, I'll keep this and you keep that," He pushed back one of the forms towards me. I filed it away in my folder and clasped my hands expectantly.

"What will you do if a conflict broke out right now? Life or death situation." Tony asked.

Was this a trick question? Was I supposed to show how courageous and selfless I was? Were these prerequisites for working for the Avengers? "I really haven't given it much thought."

"Give it some thought, then."

"I guess I'll hide away and leave you to deal with it. I'll try to escape if I think I can and try to alert whoever is around to what's happening.

"What if there was another attack in New York?"

I could feel the headache returning. "You said you would answer my questions after I signed the non-disclosure." I said, rather petulantly.

"I did; I just didn't specify _exactly_ when." Tony grinned.

I barely managed to stop myself from rolling my eyes. "Mr. Stark, with all due respect, I thank you for your time, but if I haven't performed as well as you had expected me to, please just –" I began, but I was interrupted by two people bickering.

"I'm telling you, Nat –" A man was drawling. The two figures came to an abrupt halt at the kitchen. Before I could think about how silly I was going to look, I jumped to attention. Before me stood Agent Romanov and Agent Barton, colloquially known as the Black Widow and Hawkeye. Thankfully, I didn't actually stomp my foot and salute, but that was my only saving grace. I had seen Agent Romanov at the party and she had looked just as imposing and unwilling to suffer fools as she looked right now. I had not seen Agent Barton; then again, the man was known for perching himself up high away.

"Oh, hey, Bonnie and Clyde!" Tony greeted. "Hey, Bruce."

Agent Romanov looked back and gave the newly arrived Dr. Banner a warm smile. Dr. Banner nodded affably at the rest and gave me an uncertain smile before slinking away elsewhere.

"Who's the new meat?" Agent Barton asked, biting into an apple.

"This is our new PR. For our… _guest._ " Tony spat out the word as if merely uttering it had caused his tongue to burn.

"Oh, boy, here we go again." Agent Romanov rolled her eyes and walked past Tony to raid the fridge.

"Tony, I wouldn't leave an entire squad of SHIELD agents around him for more than five minutes, and you want to subject this poor girl to him for eight hours a day?" Agent Barton said.

"She'll be fine! We have fully restrained his magic, as you've heard Thor say many times."

"Yeah, or that's what he wants us to think," Agent Barton muttered under his breath.

"And if something goes wrong – which it won't, but on the off-chance it does – we will all be here and Bruce will, of course, Hulk-smash him to Asgard come."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Agent Barton said and sidled up to Agent Romanov, seemingly having given up.

Before I could open my mouth to ask a question – or scream it, for that matter – Tony interrupted, "I know you don't have much experience in image and reputation management, but would you like to take that on?"

I blinked. I had been expecting more sidestepping, more dodging of questions and more random lines of questioning, but this was pleasantly direct. "For the Avengers?"

Tony took in a deep breath. "For Loki of Asgard."


	3. That Time We Negotiated Our Contract

**Chapter Summary:** You refuse to accept that Loki, would-be-conqueror of Earth, is back in the city where he started his reign of terror. But, fear not, for the God of Mischief is here to show you otherwise.

 **A/N:** Yup, this is the PR's first meeting with Loki! I'm not really sure about this chapter, but I did have fun writing it. Hope you guys like it too! Thank you all for your support so far! Love your reactions and your reviews and can't wait to see them for this one!

* * *

 _I had been expecting more sidestepping, more dodging of questions and more random lines of questioning, but this was pleasantly direct. "For the Avengers?"_

 _Tony took in a deep breath. "For Loki of Asgard."_

For a few seconds, all I could do was gawk at him. Tony Stark had a seriously fucked up idea of a prank. Asking me if I wanted a job at his party, commanding me to land up for an interview for the said job on a Sunday, spending half the time asking me random questions about my moral integrity and now…

My frustration finally won over. "Mr. Stark, do you really intend to offer me a job or not?"

"I just offered you one."

"What?" I exclaimed. "Image and reputation management for Loki of Asgard? _That's_ the job? You know, if you don't like me, you can just say no and save us both the breath and time!"

"Why don't you believe me?"

" _Because,_ " I spluttered, now so riled up that I had difficulty forming sentences. I paused and inhaled before trying again. "Do you really expect me to believe you want me to work for the guy you took down for trying to take over the world?"

"Yep!"

"What do you take me for? An idiot?" I was practically screeching now. I was past caring that raising your voice in an interview at your prospective employer was a terrible idea.

"He's not lying." Agent Romanov turned around and spoke. "Loki is here now."

"Loki is here?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yup. He crashes our place now." Said Agent Barton, whose displeasure seems to have only deepened.

"What do you mean 'he's here'?" I repeated.

"Exactly what it says on the tin, kid." Tony crossed his arms. "Loki of Asgard, would-be conqueror of planet Earth, is back in NYC, living right here, right now, in the Avengers Tower. Only this time, we're hoping he talks about being a goth emo on WNYC rather than sermonise a crowd of terrified people after plucking out an old dude's eye. That's where you come in."

I finally registered that Loki was _here._ He was somewhere very, very close to me. We were breathing in the same ventilated air and taking in the same sunlight. And probably last night too he had been here, lurking maybe not one or two floors away from me.

" _Loki is here?!"_ I shrieked and I could feel the fight-or-flight response kicking in. I stood looking around like a goldfish, desperately hoping this was the prank to end it all. Knowing my luck, however, I had a feeling it wasn't. And that's what made the situation so terrifying, because I had signed up to show up for an interview, not to show up for my death. I had become completely oblivious to anything else around me, for I noticed neither Tony stiffening and standing upright nor the two Agents making furious gestures to somewhere behind me.

"Indeed, he is _right here._ "

A voice spoke up from right behind me. I turned around slowly, my entire body suddenly going rigid. I could feel the goosebumps erupting, but I was bewildered why my body was reacting so strongly. There stood a man uncomfortably close to me, leaning down, his head hovering next to where mine had been a moment ago. He pulled his head back and straightened himself leisurely, not unlike a snake coiling itself up to strike. I tilted my neck up to see the man's face. My eyes kept darting all over his face, unable to put together his features and piece what he looked like.

All I could make out was that he was smiling, not very nicely.

"Is there something you wish to say to my face, mortal?" He said. If the title he addressed me with was not an indicator enough, his voice and his imperious drawl certainly were.

 _Loki. Of Asgard._

I screamed.

It was a long, shrill scream of nothing but pure horror. I jumped high in the air and landed three feet away from him. My feet came alive of their own accord and made me jump again, this time on to the counter of the island kitchen. I kicked away two of the bar stools as I kept screaming just as loudly, albeit in shorter bursts. My body was still trying to put more distance and my butt was almost at the edge of the counter. I would have toppled over, were it not for two arms that kept me upright.

Loki chuckled and stared at me with sheer malice in his eyes. "I was wondering where all the shrieking was coming from. It seems as if I have found the source."

He took a step towards me and my struggling renewed. His smile turned into a leer as his eyes left mine and moved slowly downwards towards my skirt-clad legs that were spread wide apart. I tried moving them closer, the cold in my body now being accented by the flush of embarrassment, but to no avail. I still hadn't recovered all my faculties yet.

Tony stepped forward in between us. I didn't know if he was protecting my life or my modesty, but his gesture was welcome either way.

"Alright, that's enough, Reindeer Games. Go back to your room and play with your puppets."

Loki didn't try to move around Tony, nor did he take a step back. The Agents behind me stiffened further, ready to drag Loki out of the kitchen if he did not cooperate.

"Ah, you brought me a new servant." Loki cocked his head to look at me. I tried to stop myself from letting out a whimper, but I wasn't sure how successful I was. "You are a more generous host than I gave you credit for, Stark."

"Okay, she is not your servant and if you do anything to treat her like one, I will make sure you are chained up like the criminal you are."

"Careful, now," Loki began, evil mischief creeping into his voice, "Or the wench might end up wetting herself from excitement."

I made a strangled noise from the back of my throat – whether it was one of protest, embarrassment, anger, or some combination thereof, I did not know. It didn't matter anyway, since Loki's eyes only lit up further and the corners of his lips turned upwards.

Stark groaned. "What are you, king of 'Innuendom'?"

"You truly think you are up to the task of handling me, girl?" Loki ignored him and asked me. This time, I definitely whimpered, for Loki looked very pleased with himself. "Or has Stark here kept you in the dark about what you are supposed to do? Judging by your reaction, I would say the latter. Stark does love his secrets."

"If you have nothing better to do, just get out, man." Agent Barton grunted.

"Oh, I just thought I would acquaint my new servant with her master. She should be thanking me on her bended knee for granting her the opportunity to serve me."

I was near tears now – not just from fright but also frustration.

"And she does look _thrilled._ " Loki beamed at me. I turned my face away, almost trying to bury it in one of the Agents' chests.

"Loki, enough." Agent Romanov warned. "Don't make me get Thor to use you as a weapon rack for Mjolnir."

Loki's eyes narrowed at the Agent and for a second I found it in myself to be more worried for her than myself. The moment soon passed, for Loki once again turned to look at me. His eyes were calmer now and his tone was civil and pleasant. Frankly, that bothered me more than his outright manic display of wickedness.

"Once you are fed up with the babysitting, sweetling, I will show you what the grown-up world is like." He said.

"Loki, out!" Tony snarled.

Loki relaxed and took a step back. "I will go back to my 'puppets' now, Stark, but I do so look forward to playing with a new toy." He declaimed and began prowling out in the direction from which the Agents and Dr. Banner had entered. He maintained eye contact with me with every step he took towards the exit, till at last, he was gone.

My breath left my lungs shakily and I slumped back further in the Agents' arms. Thankfully, I had recovered enough by now to be able to cross my ankles together. Tony made his way towards me with a defeated sigh.

"Kid, I am so, so sorry about that." He said. His sincerity warmed me and I nodded weakly.

"Here," Agent Romanov helped me down and settled me into the bar stool where Tony had been sitting earlier. She let go of the rest of my body but kept a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Agent Barton appeared in front of me with a glass of water.

"Drink up. You'll feel better, I promise." I took the glass and drained it hastily.

"Are you feeling better?" Agent Romanov asked me, kindly. "Do you need us to call someone? We can take you back to your place, if you wish."

"I'm fine," I sighed. Everything made sense now – Pepper Potts' protests and concern for my mental health, Stark's line of questioning that I had thought to be completely random, the non-disclosure agreement he had made me sign.

"Listen, kid, I think we should drop the matter for now. Let's talk some other day, okay?" Tony rearranged the bar stools and plonked himself in front of me.

I shook my head. He must have interpreted this as I not wanting to talk to him.

"Kid…"

"I mean, we can speak now." I amended.

Tony grimaced. "I really don't think…"

"Can we please just get this over with?" I asked, absolutely done with the day.

Tony looked at me searchingly before deciding that I was indeed calm enough to speak with again. "As I was saying, I want someone to manage –"

"Stark," Agent Romanov began, warningly.

"Let me finish, Nat." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "I want someone to help us manage 'His Highness'' image and reputation. But I will not stand for you being traumatised like so."

"I am not traumatised." I gulped. "Not really."

"Hey," Agent Romanov began comfortingly. "It's okay if you are, because we all are, too."

I smiled softly at her. "Thank you, but I am not traumatised as much as I am just shocked. Sure, he _is_ terrifying, but he has always been more of a distant figure for me. A figure I saw in videos and read about in news reports. The idea of him is downright scary, but it is not as if he has personally affected me. Neither I nor my family were in New York during the attack, thank god. It's just… it's just that it's not easy seeing an idea like him in flesh. And it's all been really overwhelming. Meeting all you figures of legend last night and then realising that it's not just the heroes who are camping here..." I smiled sheepishly.

"I don't blame you," Agent Barton said. "I'm a guy with a bow and arrow and heck, sometimes I don't know what the hell I'm doing here."

I looked away into the distance. The sole benefit of being so scared that I had jumped on to the counter was that my headache and nausea had finally dissipated. The ceiling-to-floor windows were quite a way away from me, but I could still appreciate the view of the skyline from here. I was almost at peace.

"So, kid, what do you think?"

I thought for a moment. "Why are you even asking me? You have an excellent PR team of your own already that is already more equipped at dealing with supervillain tantrums than I ever could be," I scoffed.

"They have enough work to do for the rest of us and frankly, Loki is as much work as all of us combined, if not more."

"Then, hire a publicist from outside, or rope in an agency."

Tony raised an eyebrow at me, as if questioning if I really believed that he hadn't thought of that already. "I tried. But a, no agency or publicist wants to tarnish their own professional and personal reputation to deal with his and b, whichever publicist that did sign up quit almost immediately after."

"The longest one lasted for 3 months." Agent Barton supplied.

"Why is he roaming scot-free anyway?" I asked. "Shouldn't he be in prison somewhere?"

Tony scowled. "His father, the King of Asgard, decided that a more suitable punishment for Loki would be to live his life shackled up on the planet he had tried to take over. There was no place more secure than with us here. And then, long story short, he helped Thor sort out the mess in London and apparently saved the entire universe and Thor's girlfriend along the way. Another long story short, Thor convinced _most_ of us that his brother deserved a second chance. And so here we are, trying to reign in the Reindeer, hoping we can get him to work with us on our missions. If he were to join our missions, he would become visible in the public eye. Like you said, we get a lot of scrutiny. So, it would really help if people could learn to tolerate his presence, if not welcome him into their homes willingly. That's where you come in."

I let his words sink in. "Why me?" I asked after a pause.

Tony shrugged. "You were in the right place in the right time. I have been looking for a PR for Loki for a while. And, you did pretty well in your interview."

I nodded in thanks for his compliment. It didn't make me feel as exhilarated as I had thought it would. "I don't know if I'm good enough for this," I admitted.

"I'm not expecting you to work a miracle, kid. Nor am I expecting you to even come close to one. Honestly, it's just an experiment. If it's not going to work after all this time, then fine. I'm not even sure if bringing Loki along on our missions is a good idea in the first place. But I want to be sure I've exhausted all my options before giving up."

"What if I fail? What if I get nothing done?" I never thought I would be asking this at an interview. But, in my defense, no interview handbook covered what questions to ask when you were unwittingly interviewing for managing a former supervillain's public image.

Tony shrugged again. "As long as it's not for lack of trying on your part, I'm okay with it. I'm not going to just cut you loose, if that's what you're worried about. You'll always be able to put on your resume that you worked for the Avengers. I'll be more than happy to secure you your next job and cover the costs for your therapy sessions." He joked weakly. "And hey, I doubt anyone has devised a strategy for managing communications for an alien villain. Others may have had more experience with day-to-day communications. But, I really don't think you're at a disadvantage here. Like I said, no one has done this before. Maybe that's exactly what we need – a fresh approach and someone who intuitively gets social media." He added.

I nodded.

"You'll want to know the benefits, I presume?"

I nodded again, but the benefits of the job were the last thing interesting me right now.

"$70k a year in pay, full insurance. You'll get an apartment here in the Tower. VIP access to all my parties, state-of-the-art gym and fitness classes, constant supply of coffee and tasty snacks, 20 days paid leave, not including sick days or official holidays. You can work out the rest with HR. Oh, and of course, the honour of my company."

"That's hardly a bribe," Agent Romanov quipped.

"You're right; it's the hard cold facts." Tony grinned. "So, kid, what's it going to be? Or, do you need more time to decide?"

Tony Stark was not known as one of the best people to work for without a reason. He was offering me almost $20k more than what most of my peers were earning at the entry level and a sweet, sweet amount of paid leave. Even more astonishingly, he was offering me an apartment right here in the Tower. I could keep my entire salary, minus taxes, all for myself. No rent to pay for the foreseeable future! And, if I went beyond the shallow stuff and thought about it – how many people in the world could say they work for the Avengers? Sure, there are people who work in the Tower, but how many people could say they work directly for literal superheroes?

But, was I up to the task? I did not want to jump into something only to disappoint.

Tony must have cottoned on to my inner monologue, for he supplied, "I trust you, kid. And I'm not just going to throw you into the deep end. You will be working on your own mostly but you will receive all the training and help you need from Stella and you will be a part of her team."

I was going to not just work for the Avengers, but also be mentored by some of the sharpest minds in the industry. So what if I was going to be attached to the would-be conqueror of this planet? If Loki had won, I probably would have ended up in his thrall anyway. _This,_ may be thralldom as well, but it brought nifty benefits. So what if he made my skin crawl? An opportunity like this was never going to strike again. And, if Tony was true to his word – as I knew he would be – I would have free therapy if I needed it.

There was no other answer to give, really.

"Yes."

"Well," Agent Barton began, unsurely. "Welcome to the madhouse, buddy!


	4. That Time Our Client Briefed Us

**Summary:** It is time to introduce yourself properly to your client. Of course, Loki wouldn't be the God of Mischief if he didn't find an innovative way to brief you about your project.

 **A/N:** I had so much fun writing this chapter and I'm really excited to share this. Thank you all so much for the support you've shown to this story so far! From now on, the chapters will be posted less frequently because I have run out of a backlog of chapters to upload. That being said, your comments will encourage me to write and post each chapter sooner! Let me know what you guys thought!

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Today was the day. _Today was the day. Today was the day!_ I kept chanting in my mind.

The pep-talk was not working.

I was trying to enthuse myself I was only making myself more petrified. Today was the day I was supposed to introduce myself to my 'client', Loki of Asgard. I scoffed at how far-fetched it sounded to call a god-tier supervillain something as mundane and corporate as 'my client'.

It was the Monday a week after my rollercoaster of an interview. I had spent the whole of last week negotiating my contract with HR – there was very little negotiation, strictly speaking; the contract was overly generous. There were countless non-disclosure agreements and other legal forms to sign – and _boy_ were they long and thorough. My favourite part, however, was settling into my apartment here in the Tower and getting to know Stella and her team. There were nine of them. Stella was the head and the chief spokesperson. Clara was the deputy head and second spokesperson. Samantha looked after digital media, Leslie managed media relations, John did investor relations, Anna handled crisis communications, Roisin did event management and Morgan dabbled in creating multimedia. Linden and Elise managed internal communications. The Avengers' in-house PR team was bigger than some agencies' entire staff.

As I had expected, each of them had upwards of seven-years' experience in the industry. None of them was sure what to make of me. They were warm and welcoming enough, but they kept shifting from being casual, to being worried about how well I'd be able to do the job, to sympathising about all the suffering that lay ahead of me. Stella had made me join the team meetings and spend an hour each day with two or three members of the team to learn about their specialisations throughout the week. Clara had sat down with me and tested my writing skills – anything from memos to invitations and news releases. Whenever she had found something lacking, she had made me redo the entire thing till she was satisfied. They were willing to help and pull me into their tight-knit group and that made all the difference. They had given me pep talks and crash courses on alien psychology they had picked up on the go. They had also minced no words in telling me just how often I was going to come crying to them for help.

I had a faint suspicion that they were all betting on how soon I was going to quit.

Presently, I gave myself a one-over in the mirror. A bottle-green high-necked top – I was playing off the fact that green was his favourite colour. Dark brown trousers – I was _not_ wearing a skirt again. Though I doubted that anything was going to mitigate his first impression of me squealing like a pig for slaughter as I spread my legs wide open, I knew for a fact that wearing a skirt would only bring back the topic. Black shoes with sensible heels and hair pulled back into a high ponytail gave me a slight illusion of height. Nothing fancy with makeup – the last thing I wanted to do was to give him the impression I was dolling up for him.

Shivering with mingled excitement and terror, I stepped into the elevator. Most people descended into hell; I was ascending up to it. The first few floors I kept reminding myself: introduce yourself, tell him what you are there for, ask him if he has any specific goals in mind, engage him in conversation, leave. Keep it short and sweet. The next few floors I to stop myself from hyperventilating and pushing the emergency button. The last few floors I reminded myself about the hefty salary and benefits I was getting. Then the elevator doors opened and my legs began walking me down the corridor on their own accord. That was good, because my brain had short-circuited and I couldn't summon any control over my muscles anymore.

The Asgardian brothers had this floor all to themselves. It was probably because no one other than Thor wanted to be in vaguely close proximity to Loki. Speaking of Thor, I made a note to make acquaintance with him as well. I had been given long personnel files on Loki, containing everything from transcripts of conversations and personal history to physical capabilities and personality analyses. All the personality analyses were biased to the point of borderline hostility. While I personally wholeheartedly agreed with them, as Loki's PR I needed to find his more redeemable qualities as well. And, who better an advocate for the devil than the god Thor himself?

I turned around a corner and there loomed a convoy of SHIELD agents lined up in front of a heavy-duty door at the end. I gulped. Sweat was now probably staining my clothes now. I wanted to raise my arms and sniff to check if the scent of the deo still lingered. But, there was no way to do it without looking like a complete idiot in front of all these agents. Hesitantly, I put one foot in front of the other. I was half-expecting all of them to tackle me on to the floor and Taser me at best, shoot me to death at worst, but they ignored me. Only when I reached the end of the corridor did one agent stop me.

"ID?" He asked, curtly.

With shaking fingers, I dislodged my ID from my hip and held it out to him for inspection. He took it from me and tapped it against a metal pad. Static filtered through his ear-piece and he gave me an another command, "Place your hand on the scanner and look ahead."

I mentally kicked myself for thinking that I was just going to breeze through the doors and exclaim a cheerful 'good morning.' _Of course_ there was going to be a full airport-style check. More static came through, but finally the man handed me back my ID, pressed some numbers into the keypad and allowed me through the door. At least I hadn't been strip-searched. At this point I was grateful for all mercies, however small, because I knew things were just about to get worse.

I was expecting a sterile room with a low bed, a rackety chair, a small cupboard and a window with a fake view.

What I had not been expecting was a luxurious apartment with sunlight streaming from straight ahead. The entire back wall was made of only glass and while the view was obstructed by the buildings in the front, it was still an excellent vantage point to gaze down into the city below. The white couch and adjoining armchairs were so pristine and plush that I felt guilty about even wanting to sit on them. The only colour in the living room came from the numerous modern art paintings that hung off the walls to the side. It was not a furbished prison cell; it was a well-appointed apartment properly divided into separate rooms.

The part of me that was not petrified about confronting Loki had the audacity to be upset that I didn't get to live here. I was itching to explore the entirety of the apartment, but I didn't need to have an iota of common sense to know that would be a bad idea. Neither did I want to come across as rude and invasive, nor did I want to be turned into a toad. I decided to wait for Loki to make his appearance. Tony had told me that he had informed Loki that I was going to be dropping in. It was 9:30 a.m. sharp and I wasn't sure where gods stood on the notion of punctuality.

"Don't let him intimidate you, okay?" Tony had briefed me.

"I think it's a bit too late for that." I had groaned.

"It's not. He took you by surprise, it's natural. You should've seen my face when I saw a wormhole open up in the sky and metal lizards came zipping through. And remember, you work for me, not him. Make him eat any shit he doles out to you."

A snigger made its way past my lips as I envisioned what the last piece of advice would look like literally.

"Mr. Loki?" I called out, softly. There was no reply. I tried again, louder this time, but the result was the same.

I hopped about on one foot. I didn't need to be a genius to know he was going to flaunt his feathers; his attitude the first day had made that clear enough. I ran different simulations of our meeting in my mind. None of them ended to my liking, but at least they didn't end with me humiliated, or worse, fired.

The clock on the wall showed it was quarter-to now. Impatience was creeping in. My fingers clenched around thin air, craving my phone for my social media fix. I had to leave my phone outside; it was a security procedure. Anything that Loki could use to compromise the Tower's – or the planet's – safety had to be left outside. Hesitantly, I sat lightly on the couch. Then, with a groan of pleasure after I felt how soft and comfortable it was, I settled into it fully. Prince of Asgard or not, Loki didn't deserve such nice things, especially if he was going to be so unpunctual. I wondered how he had managed to cut such a nice deal. Was it that he was a hard bargainer? Or was this another embodiment of Tony Stark's generosity? More likely, it was the former.

I looked at the clock again; it was almost ten now. With a huff, I got up, going against my survival instincts and deciding to check his room.

I knocked softly at first, then louder. "Mr. Loki?" Again, no reply.

I opened the door inch-by-inch, as if opening it too quickly would mean signing my death warrant. The bedroom, just as obscenely plush as the living room, was empty. I retraced my steps and crossed the living room, this time headed towards the dining room and kitchen. I entered without a preamble and as expected, there was no one there. Grumbling, I stormed through the living room towards the exit, having been left with no option but to go snitch on Loki to Tony. I had almost reached the security camera and was going to yell up at whoever was watching to let me out, when I felt two hands seize me.

One hand wrapped itself around my mouth, snuffling my cry of surprise. The other wrapped itself around the back of my neck, the arm constricting my wind pipe.

"Off so soon to sing tales, little bird?" A silky voice drafted down to my ear.

My body tensed up more, if that was even possible. My mind froze, but I latched on to the small part of my brain that was replaying and fast-forwarding through all the self-defense I had picked up. I knew it was futile, not to mention a terribly _bad_ idea, but freedom was only a few steps away and I had to try. So, I sagged against his arm, dipped down and tried to pull his groin with my hand.

As I had expected, but had not been ready to accept, my efforts counted for fuck all.

In retaliation, Loki dug his knee into the small of my back, pushing my lower body forward. His arm around my neck pulled me further back into him. The contortion act he pushed me into succeeded in choking me further. My hands clawed desperately at his arm and as a last resort, I grabbed the fleshy part of his hand over my mouth to twist it outwards, but of course, it was all useless. I lifted my foot and brought it down hard on his other knee. I cried in pain as I made contact; it felt as if I had slammed my foot down on a slab of marble. I was already exhausted, but his breathing hadn't even changed.

"Let me go!" I screamed against his hand, but my voice came out garbled.

He laughed in my ear and rested his chin on the top of my head. "Look at you, squirming and wriggling like a little worm."

"Urgh!" I yelled so loud that the sound broke past his palm.

Loki chuckled again. Finally, he relaxed the arm against my throat, sliding it downwards to trap my arms against my sides instead. The other hand still remained on my mouth.

"Are you not happy that your god is introducing himself to you so thoroughly, my servant?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing away the tears of frustration. _I will not cry in front of him._ I had no way of fetching help and no way of defending myself against the man who had tried to take over the world, mind-controlled people, and tortured and killed innocents barely any time ago. My self-defense classes had amounted to jack all. In all fairness, however, the instructor had never anticipated that I would be going up against a Norse god from space.

I was all alone and this was probably the last day of my life. What a sad way to go.

"I know you are fond of screaming," He gloated, as his hand hovered barely an inch above my leg, skimming up and down but never actually touching. _Bastard_. He wanted me to know he remembered the whole fiasco with the skirt. "But if you scream now, I will bring out the knives and trust me, you will not like that." Suddenly, he dropped his hand from my mouth and let me go.

I whipped around, eyes blazing, chest heaving. The feeling of oxygen flooding back into my lungs was exhilarating. My mouth had opened to scream – whether at him or at the camera to rescue me, I know not. He stared me down till I realised that the sick bastard was going to make good on his threat and slowly closed my mouth. His face relaxed.

"I'm not your servant!" I snarled. It was the first thing that came to my mind.

He cocked his head. "You come dressed in my colours and like the others before you, you are paid to serve me and handle my affairs. Is this not what a servant does?"

 _Bastard!_ He was misinterpreting my choice of clothing.

"I do not serve you."

"No? Then do you serve Stark?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, before I realised what I had admitted. He grinned at me and I wanted to scratch that grin off his face. "I mean, no! I work for him.

"So does a servant for her master."

"Yes, but I get paid."

"I never said you are a slave." His grin only became wider.

"Yeurgh!" I growled.

His eyebrows shot up in warning and I bit my tongue.

"What is wrong with you?" I spat.

"Only the fact that you are in my chambers without invitation or permission." He clasped his hands behind his back, all evidence of glee wiped from his face.

"I am supposed to be here." _You asshole_ , I added in my head.

"Pray, tell me, why are you _supposed_ to be here?"

"Mr. Stark –" I began.

"I do not care what Stark dictates. Begone."

"You are here because of his generosity!" I snapped, surprising myself. I didn't feel any deep loyalty towards Tony yet, but I was getting fed up with this asshole's attitude. My frustration was giving me some dangerous levels of bravado.

His eyes narrowed and suddenly, he prowled towards me. I stepped back hurriedly but he was right in front of me in one smooth step.

"And, _you_ are here at my mercy, worm." He snarled, as he held my head up with a hand on the back of my neck.

I blinked, thrown off by his proximity. He was so tall and that was only making things worse.

"Are you not?" He repeated, his fingers digging into my skin not painfully, but not gently either.

"Yes." I hissed.

"Yes what?" He leaned down closer.

I did not know what I hated more – his constant invasion of my personal space or his attitude and personality.

"Yes, Mr. Loki." I gritted out.

He chuckled. "Oh, I like that. But that is not the term of address I was looking for, little one."

I scowled at him. Clearly, he was not going to let me go till I threw myself into his fucked up game. "Yes, _sir._ "

His eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face. "Why, how charming. I have rarely been called 'sir' before. I like that too, but I do prefer 'sire'."

I wanted to lash out that he didn't deserve to be addressed as 'sire' because neither were we in some perverted roleplay nor was he a king who deserved to be addressed so. Even in my current state of agitation, however, I knew that that was going to be an idea way worse than pulling his groin and stomping on his knee.

So, I settled on: "Well in 21st century Earth, we say 'sir'. No one uses 'sire', not even for the royalty."

The smile widened. "Oh, but you still address your royalty, as emasculated as they have become now, as 'Your Majesty'. Go on, then. Show me that you understand that I am the king."

The temptation to scream 'you are not a king' was rising, but I resisted. "You ask for too much." I hissed.

He laughed softly. "It is hardly too much in exchange for your worthless little life."

A chill ran down my spine at his words. I willed myself to remain calm and choose my words carefully. "You won't kill me. Tony won't let you get away with it."

"No," He agreed, "But you will still be dead at the end of it, won't you?"

I barely succeeded in stopping a whimper escape my lips. Still, Loki must have felt the vibrations in my throat.

"If you kill me, you'll be stuck here inside the Tower forever." I wished my confidence in my words was as great as the confidence in my tone.

"Oh, you naive little worm." He smiled, as if he was replaying a private joke in his mind. "You have no idea about the real reason I am here."

"I know exactly why you're here." I blurted before I could stop myself.

His eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Oh, really? Do share."

I licked my lips and closed my eyes, kicking myself from burying a deeper hole. Loki wasn't even going to wait for me to actually die before he tossed me into it; he was already on his way to burying me alive.

"Tell me," He commanded, his voice a mere whisper. His fingers tightened around my neck and I could feel myself hovering an inch above the ground. My eyes flew open.

"You're here because of Thor!"

"Is that all?" His tone was disappointed. He lowered me back to the ground, but did not move his hand. "A lowly servant who cleans the room could have told you that. You think you are well-informed, but you are as dull and obtuse as the rest of the mortals here. I will be out of here long before you think and your _precious_ Thor will gladly escort me back with all the pomp and splendour due to me." He spat.

I had to get out. He was mad and full of menace and he was drawing me into crazy mind-games I had no intent of participating in. "Fine. But Tony will still make your stay here very uncomfortable if anything were to happen to me."

Loki stared at me for a while. I was relieved to see the manic glint disappearing from his eyes. Finally, he sighed and shook his head, as if he felt sorrowful about something. "You are right. Killing you will be ill-advised, but I can still make your life very inconvenient."

My neck was beginning to ache, my spirits were dropping to an all-time low and this evil alien showed no signs of letting me go. I groaned. "Please."

The perverse happiness flooded back into his face. "Please what?"

"Loki, please."

"Oh," He drawled, and there was a cruel glint in his eye. His hand tightened on my neck, his grip downright painful now. "So, it is 'Loki' now?"

"Please, sir," I begged. "Please."

He stared down at me for a few moments longer, before laughing loudly and letting me go. "You are dismissed." He walked back towards the couch and lowered himself regally on to it, his arms akimbo on the back and his head thrown back languidly.

I stared at him in confusion.

"I –"

"You may leave." He sighed, but there was no mistaking the steel in his voice. Still, he didn't look particularly miffed. His face was expressionless, but his body was relaxed.

"I… I wanted…" I licked my lips, my heart pounding. "I wanted to introduce myself."

I waited for him to say something, or dismiss me or come charging towards me again, but he didn't even give an indication that he had heard me. I hopped on one foot, then the other, my nervousness growing. Everything cell in my body was begging me to flee. There was no change in his body language. Were it not for that the very notion was ridiculous and that his breathing indicated otherwise, I would have thought he had fallen asleep. Then, I realised he was toying with me. He didn't care what or if I spoke; he just wanted to see my reaction.

"I am your new PR. I mean, your new public relations officer." I added, not sure if he knew what PR, or even public relations, meant. "My name is –"

"I know who and what you are." He said, in a bored tone.

I stared at him, unsure how he knew my name. Had Tony had told him?

"I read it on the visitor card you were wearing last week." His head came back up and he rolled his eyes, as if astonished by my dullness.

"Oh." I said, lamely. His resourcefulness unsettled me.

"I know what Stark wants you to do. I have watched your predecessors' efforts to 'rebrand' me with amusement, but I am bored with the charade now. I will not intercede you, but I will not help you either. Do as you will. I know you too will fail." His stare was sharp, but at least it was without malice or wicked glee. "And for the Norns' sake, do not expect me to do anything for you. I am under no obligation to be kind or even civil to you.

"Okay." I said, quietly. The words didn't make me feel any better, but at least they were direct and honest and not delivered at my expense.

"You will address me as 'sir'. And you will bring me a beverage of my preference every day at ten in the morning. You will not enter my chambers a second before ten."

"Fine." I shrugged. It wasn't unheard of for clients to treat their publicists as makeshift personal secretaries. "What do you like drinking?"

"Well, that is for you to find out, is it not?" He beamed at me. He waited for the look of indignation to cross my face, then added, "I will say that it has what you mortals call 'coffee.'"

I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. "Fine. But you have to be here at ten sharp. Unlike today."

He arched his eyebrow at me. "Are you giving me orders?"

"No!" I exclaimed, horrified.

"No, _what_?" He hissed.

I cursed myself for forgetting to add the 'sir' again. "No, sir."

He relaxed again.

"But, please, we need to be more punctual. Sir." I hated how deferring I had become in the span of minutes.

"Oh, that was just a little taste of your own medicine."

"What?"

"I was expecting you to enter my service last week. If you can be a week late, why can I not be half-an-hour late?"

I gaped at him, too tired to do anything else. "You're impossible."

"I am very possible, my little worm." He chortled. "Now, get out."

I did as I was commanded this time. I walked to the door, picked up the phone and asked the agent behind the camera to let me out. I wondered if they had seen Loki and my altercation. Very likely, they had, and I wondered bitterly why they hadn't intervened earlier. I swept straight down the corridor, up the elevator and to the PR team's office suite. I made a beeline for my chair, not caring about anyone or anything else. I dropped into the chair, slammed my elbows on the desk and rested my head in my shaking hands, catatonic and trembling all over.

A headache roared into life and it was all I could do to not whimper in pain.


	5. That Time We Rejected an Apology

Chapter Summary: Tony and Thor decide how to punish Loki. You would rather not have anything to do with it, but like most things in your new job, it's not up to you.

A/N: Oh gosh, I'm so sorry to those of you who've reviewed/followed this story. I will be better with updates going forward. Thank you for your patience. You may also follow this story on Ao3 and Tumblr (on my profile)

* * *

Tony was furious.

After figuring out the reason behind my catatonia, Stella had hauled me into Tony's office. Her grip on me wasn't brusque, but the last thing I wanted right now was for anyone to touch me, however gently. I wasn't able to voice my discomfort or shrug her off and I was too tired to dread or anticipate Tony's reaction. From whatever I had seen so far, he was going to be dramatic and vehement. The only thing I was sure about was that I did not want to be dragged into the inevitable confrontation. Still, I knew there was no other way this situation could have played out; being physically assaulted by a resident Norse god needed to go above HR. Unfortunately for me, Tony was going to get carried away because Loki had – yet again – hurt his ego by hurting his employee. Also unfortunately for me, Loki was only going to file away whatever Tony did to him to pay me back in kind.

After checking in with his secretary that he was alone and not in a meeting, Stella had barged into Tony's office. Like most rooms in the Tower meant for the use of Avengers and/or high-ranking employees, the office was nothing short of spectacular. There was also a mezzanine of sorts within the office, equipped with a bar and an armour stand. Either Tony Stark knew his mind damn well, or he had hired an interior designer who had succeeded in translating the man's unconventionality into physical space.

"Oh, hey, Scandal!" Tony had perked up as we had entered. As soon as he had seen Stella's pinched face and my limp form, however, his grin had vanished and he had straightened up.

"Tell me." He had said, grimly.

After we had sat down and I had finally – after a few orders and pleas – begun to spin the yarn, Tony's face had become grimmer with every passing second. However, when I had finally got to the part where Loki had grabbed me from behind and choked me, I had started crying, and that was what had broken his precariously-held composure.

"He _what?"_ Tony's voice had sounded like a whip.

I had hastily kept narrating, not wanting to stop now that the words and tears had started coming out. By the time I had finished, the composure had come back.

"I'm going to kill him." He decided. He curled his fist, presumably in anger, but as pieces of metal jetted in from the mezzanine, I realised he was summoning his armour.

"Tony, no!" Stella and I yelled, for different reasons. She clearly did not want murder on her list of crises to handle and I was worried Loki was going to take out on me whatever he suffered at Tony's hands. We looked at each other, panicked, and ran after our boss. Not trusting the elevator to come quickly enough, we took the stairs.

"Why isn't anyone sounding an alarm?" I asked, between huffs and puffs.

"They're used to Tony gearing up and flying down to the kitchenette on the same floor just to fetch coffee!" Stella replied. She was surprisingly not out of breath; she must be used to running after the Avengers on a bi-weekly basis. By the time we finally reached the penthouse floors, we were doubled over and too late.

The floor was in disarray. Some of the SHIELD agents were on the floor, some of them were running about like headless chickens and some were shouting commands on their walkie-talkies. Stella walked through the chaos towards the flung-open doors with I in her wake.

"Ma'am! You need to stay away!" One agent hastily came up to her.

"Listen, son, I need to stop my client from murdering his prisoner." She said, bluntly.

Either Stella was truly a woman not to be messed with, or her desperation had made her unwilling to stand down. Either way, I was impressed; I didn't think I would have had it in me to oppose a highly-armed, highly-trained SHIELD agent.

"Ma'am, I cannot let you enter a combat zone."

She snorted in a distinctly un-Stella-like fashion. "It's not a combat zone, it's Iron Man pummeling a defenseless man. Let me through!"

Clearly, the man was going to be a problem. Or, he would have been, had it not been for a booming voice that rang over the din.

"What in Valhalla is going on here?"

 _Thor_.

I knew Thor was one hundred percent a good guy. Still, I felt coy about meeting the brother of the man who had physically and mentally harassed me barely an hour ago. Then again, he was our best chance to claw through the mass of agents and stop Tony and Loki from starting another Battle of New York. He marched over to the two of us, looking at our faces for an explanation. He was even taller than Loki; it was disconcerting.

"What happened, my ladies?"

I might have swooned if it were not for the situation at hand.

"No time to explain. Tony is on a rampage against Loki." Stella replied and began walking up to the door. With Thor by her side, dwarfing everyone with his height and musculature, and face contorting from thunderous rage, no one dared to stop us.

"Stark!" Thor bellowed and began swinging his hammer impossibly fast. In the blink of an eye, he was horizontal in the air, surging towards the door.

It was impressive.

Stella looked back at me and shrugged. "The entire team's MO is being extra." She said, as we broke into a run and practically slid into the room.

Gone was the pristine apartment from an hour ago; now, there were ripped cushions with their feathers scattered, a smashed centre table, askew sofas and a collapsed painting. Besides the painting lay a doubled-over, groaning Loki. In the middle of the room stood Tony, the optics of his mask glinting and his hand outstretched, gearing up to fire another blast. Before he could, however, Thor's hammer ripped through the air and hit Tony straight in the back. Tony went flying again, this time without intending to, and landed precariously close to the glass wall.

"What is the meaning of this, Stark?" Thor growled, as he prowled over to Tony, picked him up and slammed him against the glass for good measure.

"Why don't you ask your precious, prodigal brother, Point Break?" Even though his expression was hidden, I could envision Tony rolling his eyes. "Actually, don't. He's just going to lie his way through this like he has through everything else."

"You dare question my brother's change of heart _again_?" If the ambience hadn't been so tense, I would have snorted at how cheesy the line was.

"That is implying that he has a heart," Tony muttered.

"If the two of you are done discussing my organs or lack thereof –" Loki began. I glanced over at him, not having dared to do so earlier. While he didn't look injured, it wasn't as if Tony's blows had gently tickled him either; he was in some pain. _Good_ , I thought, spitefully.

"Shut up, Loki!" "Brother, enough." Came the replies.

Confident that Tony was in more of a mood to talk than attack now, Thor let him go and took a step back.

"Is it normal for Midgardians to harass guests to whom they've pledged meat, mead and protection?" Thor asked, exasperated, as if he had had asked this question a million times before.

"Is it normal for Asgardians to harass the people who work for me?" Tony barked.

"What?" Thor frowned. He turned slowly towards Loki, his rage building up again. "Brother?" He rumbled.

"Don't ask him," Tony cut in. "Ask _her_." He nodded to behind Thor.

The god of thunder turned around to look at Stella. Then, when he saw Stella looking at me, he swiveled around to face me, confusion seeping into his face.

"Oh, god," I spluttered, in distress. This was _precisely_ the situation I had not wanted to get into, especially in front of the man – _god_ – who was responsible in the first place.

"Which one?" Loki piped up from the side. I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Zip it, Marilyn Manson." Tony said.

I couldn't help it; despite my discomfort and misery, I chortled at Tony's new moniker for Loki.

That may have been the effect he was looking for, for he said, "See, kid? It's okay. I got your back. Tell Thor what Loki did."

I tried hard to not look at Loki, but failed. I had expected his face to be contorted into a smirk or his eyes narrowed in warning, but I was surprised to see the neutral expression on his face. In some ways, that bothered me even more, because it was his unpredictability that was his greatest asset.

"Forgive me, my lady, but we have not been introduced yet." Thor smiled, in an effort to help me along.

"Oh, we have." I said, like a fool. Thor frowned, trying to remember. "Er, you bumped into me slightly at Tony's party last Saturday." I offered, again, like a fool.

"Oh, yes, of course!" He affirmed, but no one was tricked into thinking that he knew what he was talking about. Then, he added, "I apologise unreservedly for my actions, my lady."

"Oh, no, it's okay." I gushed. "You apologised already." As soon as the words left my mouth, I mentally smacked my forehead.

"I did?"

"Yeah."

"If you two are done being polite," Tony interrupted, "Can you get on with it, kid?"

I had a suspicion he was interrupting less to cut off our conversation and more to get to punishing Loki quicker. "Yeah, I'm his new PR."

"Oh, _Norns,_ " Thor groaned. Clearly, he too had been privy to the exercise of redefining Loki's public image and the occupational hazards it involved.

"No, no, no," Tony chimed in. "You gotta listen to the next part. Out with it, kid."

"Yeah…" I wrung my hands, eyeing them as if they were the most interesting things in the world. "I entered his apartment today to introduce myself. I was waiting for a long time but he wasn't there. I decided to leave, but before I could, he grabbed me from behind and choked me. He let me go after I promised not to scream. Then he grabbed me again… And yeah… he let me go." I finished, lamely. I really wasn't keen to give another blow-by-blow account of my torture, especially in front of my torturer. I dared to glance at Loki; he looked slightly amused with my vapid retelling. Tony, on the other hand, looked a little disappointed with the lack of detail, but it was enough for Thor.

" _Loki!"_ He bellowed and stomped to where his brother was now sitting cross-legged. He wrapped one hand around his neck and lifted him a foot high in the air.

"Oh, my god!" I screamed. Stella and Tony remained mute, presumably used to the Asgardians' version of weightlifting. It must have been a cultural thing to seize people by their throats.

"All this time and you have still not learned your lesson!" Thor roared.

I was surprised to see Loki not flay his legs or make any attempt to get out of the grasp. While he did not look comfortable, he didn't look like he was in discomfort either. To my annoyance, he even had a smile on his face.

"I would argue for the opposite, brother. Whereas once I would have simply killed the mortal and not have given her a second thought, now, I let her go. She can still walk and, sadly, talk. She is also free to do whatever work she pleases."

"Oh, thanks for giving her the permission to do her work!" Tony said, sarcastically. "Really, that was all she was lacking."

"You abuse Stark's hospitality." Thor went on. "Worse, you abuse your freedom. Mother taught you to be better than this!"

"Don't drag mother into everything!" Loki snarled. Apparently, Thor had touched a nerve.

"Do you think she would be proud of you? Do you think she would be happy you are back to not respecting mortals and mortal lives?"

"I saved your Jane Foster, did I not?"

"So, you just stop after having saved one mortal?"

"What do you want me to do? Gather them into my arms and wet nurse them?"

"I am asking you to treat them with respect! It is nothing that you are not capable of and nothing that goes beyond your duty!"

"It is not my duty!"

"It will be! Eventually! And you will do as you ought to do or else –"

"Else what? Will you go –"

"Okay, that's enough, Macbeth and Macduff," Tony interjected. I had lost all track of what direction the conversation had taken, but my lips twitched at the reference. Tony's wit never ceased to surprise me. "As fascinating as it sounds, I don't particularly care for this Asgardian soap opera at the moment. I need you to bring your brother to heel, not start an angsty drama, Thor."

Thor was breathing heavily. Finally, he let Loki go but gave him no space to escape. "Loki, apologise to the lady."

"Excuse me," Tony chimed in. "But, she deserves more than a petty 'sorry!'"

"Um…" I trailed off, getting increasingly worried about my survival prospects. I doubted Loki had ever apologised to _anyone_ , leave alone a mortal. Forcing him to apologise to me was only guaranteeing gruesome reprisals the next day.

"Fear not, Stark, my lady. I assure you, this is the best way to punish Loki for his misdemeanours."

Tony nodded, having warmed up disconcertingly quickly to the idea. "Say sorry."

My panic increased. I looked towards Stella in the hope that she would give me a clue on what to do but she was glaring at Tony. I looked at Loki and I was alarmed at what I saw: he looked livid. It wasn't the righteous anger of Tony or the thundering rage of Thor; it was icy fury. It didn't matter if he had saved the universe and Thor's girlfriend – right now, he was the god who felt that he was being disrespected.

"Does 'the lady' wish for me to apologise?" He asked, to no one in particular while looking at Thor. His face was paler than usual, the features pinched, his tone even.

"No!" I exclaimed. Everyone, except Loki, turned to look at me. "There's no need. Please."

"Kid, you don't have to go easy on him. In fact, you _shouldn't_ go easy on him."

I took in a shuddering breath, trying to get my heart to beat at a normal rate. I wouldn't be surprised if I was diagnosed with heart arrhythmia at the end of all this. "It's fine, really."

"No, it's not. I won't let him mistreat you or anyone else on my watch."

I was trying to slip into a more 'professional' mode, but the more I tried to calm myself, the more I seemed to be failing. "Mr. Stark, please. I'm not denying it was bad and wrong and distressing, but it's over now. I'm guessing this is the first time something this extreme has happened, right?" I hoped I was right, for Tony's sake. It wouldn't reflect well on him if he had sent me in without even a word of warning about all the manhandling that was going to follow.

"Yes, but –"

"So, let's just give him the benefit of doubt, okay?" In my mind, there was no doubt. Loki was a highly unpredictable and dangerous neurotic asshole with psychopathic tendencies and anger management issues. But, neither did I want to complicate things further on my first day, nor did I want to antagonise him so much that I had to quit my job anytime in the near future.

"You don't need to do that!" Tony insisted.

"I'm his PR; I have to," I shrugged, almost apologetically. None of this was fair to any of us and to my chagrin, my words sounded like a burgeoning Stockholm Syndrome. "Look, if I'm to do my job, I want him to cooperate with me. Forcing him to apologise is not going to help with that. Even if he did apologise, I don't think he would mean it. And, he did say that he wouldn't intercede my efforts. So, I guess that's something."

"If he has threatened you –"

"No!" I exclaimed, then calmed a little. "No, he hasn't. He has just asked me to bring him coffee."

Tony and Thor looked incredulously between me and Loki, but neither of us met their gaze. Fortunately, they didn't comment on it.

"I just want to do my job, guys. And you have your own stuff to do, too." I said.

Silence hung in the room for a few minutes. Then, Tony sighed heavily. "Okay, kid. Just this once. But if he does anything, _anything_ whatsoever, I want you to tell me everything. Your safety is more important than dealing with his tantrums. Oh, and," He turned to glare at Loki, "I don't care if Thor hangs around, trying to defend you, but if you so much as try to prick her finger with a spindle or even look at her funny, I will give 'Asgard' a whole new meaning.

While he did not exactly understand the linguistic nuances of the threat, Thor nodded. "And I promise I will not stand in your way, Stark, if Loki does anything to harm his PR again."

"Right!" Tony nodded. "Come along, kid! Let's get you some ice cream! You deserve a treat after this."

The fact my ordeal was finally over gave me more happiness than the promise of an ice cream. I didn't even need ice cream as a bait to make me ready to leave the apartment. Tony pulled me out with him, Thor and Stella following us. I didn't look back at Loki, but I could feel his stare on my back. We walked through the corridor, at the end of which stood all the SHIELD agents in formation.

"You're all fired!" Tony declared, cheerfully.

There was a moment of silence. Then, one of the agents spoke up. "You don't have the authority to fire us, Stark. We take our orders from Fury and he will hear about this."

"Oh, yeah? What's old Fury gonna do? Take off his eyepatch and show me the horrors within?"

Before the man could open his mouth, Tony cut him off. "Your negligence almost cost me my employee's life. Now, I don't know how you do things at SHIELD, but here, no one is dispensable. So, I am going to demand a squad that is active on the job and actually knows what it is doing. So, you're fired. F.I.R.E.D – Fuck me if I care, Really. End of Discussion."

And, without another word, Tony whisked us towards the elevator. Thor came up to me while we waited.

"My lady, I wish we could have met under better circumstances. I am truly sorry for my brother's actions."

"Thank you, Mr. Thor." I smiled, tiredly. Just last week, I was turned into a blubbering mess after he had brushed into me. And now, two of the Avengers had sworn to defend me against the bad guy.

Life really did take some interesting turns sometimes.

"Please, call me Thor." He beamed.

"Only if you stop calling me 'my lady' and call me by my name." While I had found his title for me exceedingly charming at first, it was a too formal for everyday use.

"I am afraid I have not yet had the honour of knowing your name." He said, gravely, as if it were the most sorrowful thing in the world.

I told him my name and added, "Or you can call me 'Scandal', like Tony does."

"'Scandal?' Why 'Scandal?'"

"It is a TV show," I supplied, hoping he knew what that meant. I did not feel up to bringing him up to date on Earth culture at the moment. "It is about a woman who takes care of crises for the President. According to Tony, Loki, like the President, is a crisis waiting to happen, and I am the one who has to clean up after him. Hence, the nickname."

"It's a pretty good nickname." Tony declared.

"It may be so," Thor agreed, "But you are far from scandalous, my lady." He teased. Then, he took my right hand and kissed the knuckles. I felt the heat rising to my face and my heart skipping a few beats from something pleasant, for a change. "Let us hope we meet at a more joyous occasion next time! Stark. Stella." He acknowledged and made his way back to his own rooms.

I stared long and hard at his biceps till it was time to step into the elevator. Blond and muscly had never been my type, but Thor had become a solid exception to that. _If only Loki were half as benign and charming as Thor._ I sighed softly, trying not to give in to the self-pity. My first day had barely begun, yet I was already dreading the rest of my days in this job. Before my brain could start hemming and hawing again about whether I had done the right thing by taking up this job, I took in a deep breath and shook my head. For better or for worse, I was in the thick of things now.

* * *

A/N: The story does divert from the canonical ending of Thor: Dark World, so be prepared for that!

Hope you're liked the chapter! I gotta admit, I'm really proud of the Marilyn Manson joke. Comments make me grin like a maniac! I live for your reactions =)


	6. That Time We Did Employee Evaluation

**Chapter summary:** As if Loki's shenanigans had not been damaging enough mentally and physically, they might also end up scarring you professionally.

* * *

Tony, Stella and I said nothing as we waited for the elevator. I wondered what work they would line up for me for the rest of the day; as long as it was nothing to do with Loki, I was not going to complain. True, I'd rather have had the option to take the rest of the day off and hibernate, but I guessed 'being terrorised by Loki' was not going to work as an excuse at the Avengers Tower. I dreaded tomorrow; what was going to happen to me? Would Loki finally kill me? _Not before torturing you for all that happened today_ , my brain supplied unhelpfully. I tried not to dwell on it; I knew I would have to confront him tomorrow regardless. So, there was no point in driving myself crazier than I felt already.

Finally, the elevator opened and we stepped in. "Floor 70 for you?" Tony asked me and Stella but pressed the button without waiting for a response.

"Actually, 82." Stella answered, coolly. That was the floor where Tony's main office was located.

"Oh?"

"Yes, we need to talk." Her tone invited no arguments.

"What about?"

" _This._ This mad, stupid, risky and foolhardy 'experiment' you insist on running." Stella lashed out, turning around to face Tony.

"Stella," Tony began, cautiously, "We've been over this."

Stella glared at him for a few moments before answering in a deceptively calm voice, "You're right. I'm going to talk to Pepper." She pressed the button for the 55th floor, where the bridge that connected the tower to the Stark Industries' wing was located.

"No! Stella, please, please, please, please!" Tony whined. "Please don't bring Pepper into this!"

"She's the only one who can bring you to heel, Tony and frankly, I'm fed up of trying to make you see sense."

"Stella," Tony held out his hands in surrender and spoke as if trying to soothe someone in distress, "Please, let's just talk about this in our office, okay?"

"Tony, I'm telling you as your friend, as your PR and as your employee that this is a recipe for disaster and I'm _sick_ of covering your bases in the aftermath of all the havoc Loki is wreaking."

Suddenly, the elevator door opened. Neither of them was willing to continue the argument in front of an audience and Tony had strategically placed himself in front of the number pad so that Stella couldn't make her escape. She refused to break eye contact with Tony as she stormed towards his office. Tony followed her quickly, but I dawdled. I wasn't sure if I should go to their meeting, even though it sounded like my job was on the line.

Tony realised I wasn't following him, for he said, "You too, Scandal. Not now," He added, to his secretary, who had leapt up and was trying to swarm him with some documents he needed to sign.

He locked the door behind him after we were both inside. He curled his fist and the armour detached itself from his body and reattached itself back on the stand. Now that his helmet was gone, I could see how tired he looked. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and there was a yellow tinge to his skin.

"Alright, shoot." He said, to Stella.

"She could have died!" Stella shrieked. "He threatened to kill her! And he _would've_ killed her, but it would have been _your_ fault!"

Tony tensed up and opened his mouth but no sound came out.

"Do you want me to be grateful that he hasn't killed one of us already?" Stella continued, literally trembling in her rage. From whatever I had gathered of her during the last week, she was always poised, unflinching and cool. These were important traits for any PR, but essential for someone who handled crises communications. Yet, now, she had shed away the mask of composure for good. I had never seen any employee speak that way to their boss, leave alone a PR with their client, but she had still words aplenty. "Is that what it will take to put an end to this? Him actually killing his PR? Is this what you want the rest of us to commit our days to? Cleaning up after this _folly_?"

"You weren't raising any objections when I told you I wanted to hire her!" Tony tried changing the topic. My respect for him dipped a little that moment.

Stella cottoned on to his attempt as well. "Don't you dare try to weasel your way out of this. I didn't object because I knew there would be no stopping you. If I had known that _this_ would happen, I would have refused to take any further part in this!"

"Look, I didn't expect he was actually going to go bat shit crazy on any of his PRs, especially not her!"

Both Stella and I gawked at our boss. "Do you expect me to believe that you never thought that the man who tried taking over the world, destroyed this very city and killed hundreds, if not thousands, of people, would not try harming someone completely defenseless and helpless?" She asked, very slowly.

There was a long pause before Tony answered, refusing to meet Stella's eyes. "No."

She swallowed whatever remark she had been preparing, shut her eyes and counted to ten. When she began speaking, the anger was still there, but the fire and brimstone were gone. "As PRs, it is my and my team's responsibility to not judge our client and help them get their point across. I understand what you want and why you want it. But, it is insulting for us to have no choice but to continue working by extension for Loki. It is insulting to have to keep cleaning up his shit so that it doesn't splash on you as a result, when he has done nothing whatsoever to prove himself worthy of the effort we all are putting into him."

"I am sorry." Tony said, blandly.

"For what? For your stubbornness? For not letting us sympathise with our coworkers and instead making us stop them from blabbing and compromising your plans? For almost causing her to die?"

"For everything." Tony said, hoarsely, to both me and Stella. I couldn't meet his eye. "She's not going to be alone. I'm going to have an agent, whom I'm personally going to select, escort her whenever she is within ten feet of Loki."

"SHE IS JUST A CHILD!" She screamed. I opened my mouth, probably to protest, but she rounded on me, though not in anger. "I have nothing against you, dear. You are smart and from what I've seen of you this past week, you have a lot of potential. However, I don't think you're ready for something like this, sorry."

I blinked, trying to quell the feeling of being hurt. Stella was a no-nonsense and direct person. She wasn't harsh or unkind, but she had little time on hand to call a spade anything but a spade. Sure, I wanted to make Tony satisfied, but I wanted to _impress_ her. I knew what she had said was true, but still, it stung.

"And that's where you come in!" Tony began, but Stella held up a palm to silence him.

"I and my team have too much on our plate already to take care of her as well. We are happy to guide her and help her. We are happy to look out for her. But, we do not have the time to look _after_ her. And, she is not experienced. Naturally, she will make mistakes; that is just going to mean additional work for us." She sighed, then drew in her breath to try another track, "Tony, I am tired of seeing the people you have brought in leaving with so much anxiety and stress. I cannot bear to watch someone who is just starting out in the world get saddled by all the negativity at best, and actually end up dying at worst. That man is not worth her life and her peace of mind."

I could feel my stomach and heart growing heavier. Stella had all but refused to have me around anymore and Tony seemed uncertain about what to do as well.

"I'm going to go speak with Pepper now." She said, quietly.

"Look, I agree with you, okay?" Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "And, you are right. And, I want to do the right thing. But, even if you set Pepper loose on me, I can't do anything right now. We can't just break a contract."

"Invoke the exit clause." Pat came the reply.

"We don't have any reason to at the moment. And, I'd rather not bring in more people, especially lawyers, into this circle of secrets. The only way this can be done cleanly and with as little legal debate as possible is if Scandal invokes the clause."

They both swung around to look at me. Stella's gaze was neutral; Tony's was regretful. Mine, however, was reproachful. _I_ hadn't done anything wrong. _I_ hadn't lied about anything or buffed my resume. It was _Tony's_ decision to hire me despite knowing the extent of my inexperience. It was _Stella's_ strategy of establishing contact and building a working relationship that I was following. Whatever tasks anyone had set me till now, I had finished with attention to detail and enthusiasm. They had no right to make me quit.

If I quit, I wanted it to be wholly my decision. I was not going to give Loki the satisfaction of having terrorised another 'mortal' into despair. Fate had dropped a most unexpected and unrealistic opportunity into my lap and given me a job millions of PRs more experienced and far worthier than me would die for. And, I'd be damned if I didn't fight tooth and nail to prove myself deserving of it. I knew I was not the best for the job nor the most deserving. But, despite all that, I had still got this surreal opportunity. I was the one who had agreed to take on the challenge. And that was precisely why I needed to keep this job.

I knew what even just a year at this job was going to mean for the rest of my life and I was not going to let an asshole alien get in my way. Yes, I was being materialistic and selfish, but those were also the reasons why I was determined to work damn hard. I wanted to prove to everyone that I was the right person for the job after all. I was being stupid and borderline suicidal and at this rate, I might end up dying literally for my job. Yet, I was also desperate to take the risk at having an extraordinary career. My pride and stubbornness were probably going to be the end of me, but they were also the traits that had helped me persevere so far. I was young, excited, desperate to learn anything and everything and drunk on possibilities and fanciful daydreams.

"I won't quit." I said, softly, but firmly.

Stella's expression remained the same. Tony's, however, reflected uncertainty. "Kid…"

"No," I interrupted. "This is not my fault. You both agreed to hire me and you both are aware of my strengths and weaknesses. I did the best I could do in such an extraordinary situation. In fact, it was I, who diffused the situation back there even though I was the victim in it. I was the one who stopped you from making Loki apologise because I knew that was only going to piss him off and make it harder to strike a working relationship." _Not to mention that he would have definitely slit my throat in my sleep for it_ , I added mentally. Being so direct and forceful about my 'accomplishments' was making me uncomfortable. But, I couldn't stay quiet and be a passive observer of the discussion surrounding me anymore.

"Look, kid, maybe it is in all our best interests if we just get this over with right now."

"Then you will have to fire me," I said, boldly. Getting fired was a really, really bad alternative, especially from Stark Industries, but my pride refused to let me give in. "Because I am not resigning. I may have lucked out on getting the opportunity to apply for this job, but I worked to the best of my ability to show I was deserving of it. No one, Loki or not Loki, is going to take that away from me."

"You accepted the offer very quickly, and I can see why you did that." Stella said, evenly. "However, I strongly advise you to think more about what we are saying here. We do not mean to insult you, nor are we saying that we will not help you out, but we need to reevaluate our game plan."

I tried to calm down and not be terse. "Ms. Lee, I understand your arguments and I agree with them. But, I am not a child. I am inexperienced, but that doesn't mean that I am some helpless and clueless entity. I am willing to learn and I am willing to work as harder than I am expected to." Admitting my inexperience and standing firm on my stance were chafing my self-esteem and patience, but I saw no option but to stay strong.

We all stood in tense silence for a few minutes. Tony refused to look at either of us. Stella was staring straight ahead, occasionally throwing me and Tony a glance. I kept staring resolutely, hopefully not outright glaring at them. It was Stella who broke the silence.

"Fine." Her tone was not cold, but it wasn't warm and open either. "You will take the rest of the day off and meet me in my office at nine tomorrow."

I exhaled. I hadn't realised how hot my face or how tense my shoulders had become. Without another look at either of us, Stella swept out of the office. Tony pursed his lips together in lieu of a smile and nodded at me. Without another word, I too left the office. The Avengers Tower felt unwelcoming once again. I was beginning to hate Loki. Sure, I had disliked him even before he had scared me into hopping on to a kitchen counter and he had definitely not won any favours by choking me. But, now that his stupid prank had clearly had much more serious repercussions, I felt outraged. The extent of my fury worried me - how was I going to be good at my job if I did not like my client at such a personal level? How could I manage to make the world unbiased when I myself was so biased against him?

I was just going to have to be very professional about the matter. I wasn't sure if I was capable of that, however. It would require extraordinary restraint and patience to transport myself into a zone where I could be objective. Irritably, I tried tuning my thoughts off. Now was not the time to go over the mechanics of how I was going to function. Now was the time to cry and be grateful that I still had my job.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was going to be a part of the previous one, but then I decided to break them up since one single chapter would've been too long. This was boring to write, but I think it was important to cover. You don't just go back to singing Kumbaya after your alien archnemesis harasses your employee. Next chapter will be Loki and Scandal's first conversation after the... shenanigans... and I think we can safely say the slow burn would begin from there.

Also, I love you guys 3 Thank you all for your support so far! 3


	7. That Time We Got Career Advice

**Chapter summary:** You get a new nickname, courtesy of your new bodyguard. Stella and Loki dole out some advice.

* * *

The morning after the fiasco that was my first day, Stella hauled me into her office.

"Hi," I said, anxiously.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," I smiled, weakly. I hadn't slept well. While I had not had nightmares about Loki hunting me down and ending my life, the ups and downs of the day had kept my mind on an overdrive. When sleep had come at last, it was disturbed and fleeting.

Stella nodded. "So, we find ourselves in a difficult situation. You almost died, Tony is being purposely obtuse and I do not have the patience to train another person only to have them run away in despair a month later. For whatever reason, you have decided to stick with the job. Professionally, I admire that."

I slowly inclined my head towards her, anticipating a 'but'.

"Personally, I think you're mad."

I couldn't bring myself to object.

"Competent and capable, but mad."

I had begun having a whiplash from all the times Stella had gone from complimenting me to declaiming her lack of faith in me.

"Look, there is no denying you are inexperienced," Stella continued, "But I have nothing against you, either personally or professionally. And I will say that I was impressed by how quickly you thought on your feet. You were smart enough to not indulge Tony's game to make Loki apologise."

I ducked my head in embarrassment. "Yeah, well, that was more because I was worried about my own survival."

Stella cocked her head. "You said that you wanted to keep a good working relationship."

"Well… that is true, yes." I sighed. "But, it was driven more by wanting to not end up actually dead."

"Like I said, quick on your feet."

"Thanks."

"So, you _are_ terrified of Loki."

"I'd be mad if I weren't." I laughed, shakily.

"And yet, you worked so hard to keep your job." It was a statement demanding further explanation.

"A million PRs would die for the job." I recited, sounding like someone straight out of Devil Wears Prada.

"And, Loki cannot hold a candle to Miranda Priestly, which is also why you decided to stay?" She smirked.

I snorted. "Well, I was upset that I was going to lose my job even though I did nothing wrong and I was the victim. And, I don't like giving up coveted opportunities easily. And, I'm genuinely interested in the work."

"Oh, trust me, dear, this is anything but coveted," Stella said, drily. "Well, I am willing to do this. I can work with someone who is driven professionally. I would've been very disappointed if you had said something like everyone deserved to have their side of the story told or how you wanted to show the unseen side of a misunderstood villain."

"I'm stubborn, not delusional."

"Good." Stella clapped her hands. "At first, I hadn't wanted to have you report directly to me, since I didn't have the need or the time. Now, however, I am thinking that leaving you run scot-free would only complicate things. I am willing to train and mentor you. You will still be doing the bulk of the work on your own. However, you must report the minutes of every single meeting you have with Loki or regarding him to me. You will only proceed with a plan if it has my approval. I will get the final and preliminary say on every step of the way. And, I will also need you to pitch in to help the rest of the team with whatever side tasks they may have, since there is only so much you can do for a person who is confined to his apartment 24/7. Does that sound fair?"

I frowned in thought for a moment before nodding. It was fair – and her promise of mentorship was more useful than having complete independence. Even if it hadn't been fair, however, I still couldn't have found a way around it.

"Sounds good." I affirmed.

"Good. So, let's talk about your strategy today."

"Strategy for what?"

"For talking to Loki, of course." She looked at me, as if daring me to argue otherwise.

"Wh-what?" I squeaked.

"You will have to talk to him some time. Surely, you realise that?"

"Yes, yes," I fumbled, for some reason properly registering only now the idea that keeping my job also meant engaging Loki again. "But, why do I have to do it today?"

"If you wait too long, you'll find it only more difficult to start talking again. And, he's only going to take your absence as proof that he has managed to scare you off. You don't need to show you're brave, but you do need to show that you're here to stay and that you mean business."

"Oh, yes, I agree." I said, even though I did not, actually.

"So, what's your strategy?"

I 'uhm'd and ah'd as I looked around everywhere save at Stella. I couldn't find anything concrete, so I settled for the most useless answer ever: "He told me to bring him coffee. And that I can't enter before ten."

Shaking her head, she said, "I can't believe I'm still too young for retirement. You'd think I'd be older by now, given all the shit I've seen."

I stared at her in pity. Whether it was pity for her or myself, I knew not.

"Well, get him his coffee, explain to him that you hope you can move beyond yesterday's events and ask him if there is anything else you can do for him. Humour him. Keep him talking. The guy sure does love the sound of his voice. But, for the love of god, _do not_ provoke him. As a PR you need to learn how to keep a tight leash on your temper and think before you speak. I am not one for victim-blaming, but this time, do refrain from screaming at him that he is here thanks to Tony's generosity."

"Give me some credit; I refrained myself from telling him he's not a true king," I said, petulantly.

"Good job," Stella returned. "Keep it up. Your life – and your job, since for some reason you value that more than your life – depend on it."

"Anything else you have in mind?" I all but grumbled.

"No. Agent Robson should be waiting for you outside our office. You can meet him when you're ready."

"Agent Robson?" I asked, dumbly.

"Your bodyguard whenever you interact with Loki. He's going to make sure you get out of harm's way should anything go wrong."

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but then shut it quickly. As much as I had tried skirting around it, the notion of going alone to Loki's apartment had been petrifying me to no end.

"It's Tony's orders and this time, I agree with him. Well," She shrugged, "As much as I can agree with him, given the circumstances. Buy him a coffee, too. That should give him additional incentive to keep you alive."

I nodded, a tad dismayed that I had to incentivise my survival. Then again, if $3 meant the difference between being dead or alive, I was okay with paying the price.

"Anything else?" She asked.

"No. Thank you, Stella."

She smiled sympathetically. "Good luck. Remember, Loki is not expecting you to return. And your defense of him would have also surprised him, even if it was in your interest. You are tougher than he thinks – and that is your advantage. Come back as soon as you're done, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," I finger saluted and left the office suite. True to her word, a burly blond in black combat gear was waiting outside. Most people wore only a shoulder, hip or thigh holster; this man wore all three. He carried three handguns and had some deadly looking knives attached at strategic locations on his body. Like Thor, he seemed to be made purely of muscle, but unlike him, his face was hard and not easy on the eyes.

"You are the lackey?" He nodded at me.

"Beg your pardon?"

"Loki's lackey," He bared his teeth in what I supposed was a grin but looked like a snarl.

"I'm not his lackey!" I gritted.

"No? Well, you gotta admit it has a ring to it. The name's Robson." Agent Robson extended his hand.

"Hi," I shook his hand. I was expecting an uncomfortably firm handshake, but he was mindful of his grip. "Nice to meet you."

"Is it?" Robson grinned again. "I'd rather not be meeting you, miss, because I'd rather not see your life in peril. But, what can we do? That Asgardian has sure got somethin' up his ass."

My lips twitched in something resembling a smile. Despite my unease and his gruff manner, his gentle teasing was setting me at ease.

"That's more like it!" He exclaimed, his face crinkling up as he smiled. He looked much more approachable now. "Are you ready to go to his lair?"

"I need to fetch him some coffee, first."

"Aren't you just a lackey." He said and began walking towards the elevator.

"Hey!" I cried out in mock anger.

We went down in silence to the Starbucks joint on the 10th floor. Like all things in Avengers Tower, the Starbucks too was more grandiose than any other I had seen. Tony really did have a penchant for ostentation. I gave the menu a quick one-over, worriedly trying to deconstruct Loki's vague brief for his drink. I was tempted to get a black coffee as dark as his soul, but I was certain even he would be able to swallow so much bitterness.

"Hi!" I said, perkily, in the hopes that faking happiness would actually help me feel better.

"Good morning, what can I get you today?" The barista asked, genuinely happier than me.

"A grande caffe latte," I recited, then turned to look at Robson, "And, what would you like?"

"You don't need to bribe me, miss."

I smiled sheepishly, surprised at having had my motives being seen through. "That's good to know, but still, I'd like to buy you something if you want."

He still hesitated, so I added, "I'll file it under expenses, don't worry."

Nodding, he said, "Alright, then. A short dark roast."

I paid up, grabbed the coffee and a couple of sugar sachets and we made our way up to hell. Robson gulped down his coffee quickly, wiping his mouth as he turned to look at me. "So, here's what we're going to do when we go in. I'm gonna stand still as a statue and you're gonna do your thing. If you're feeling scared, just say a colour. I will step up and be right next to you. If you need to get out immediately, scream whatever comes to your mind. I will get you out of there, I promise. It wouldn't get to that, because I will use my own judgement to step in when I feel things are going south, but you should know what to do just in case I miss something. Got it?"

"Yup," I said, sounding more casual than I felt. "Blue if I want help, scream if I'm in mortal peril."

"Alright," He affirmed as we swiped our IDs and pressed our fingertips at the door.

I glanced at the agents who stood guard, none of them the same as yesterday. It had taken Tony all of one day to fire, examine and hire a new team and a personal bodyguard for me. I shook my head in amazement. Which PR could claim to have a SHIELD security detail shuffled around all for her sake?

"Good luck, Lackey." Robson said, affectionately, before we entered.

The apartment had been restored to its former glory. Another painting replaced the smashed one from yesterday and the new centre table complemented the rest of the décor just as well as the one before. I wondered briefly if Loki had done his bit in renovating the apartment before casting away the notion. That man wouldn't deign to lower himself to something so menial. Besides, Tony had an army of cleaning staff anyway. The owner of the apartment sat in the same place as yesterday, all long legs and arms, seemingly lost in his own world as he read a book. My heart fluttered in distress, the panic and worry flooding straight back in. Maybe I should have listened to my instincts and waited another day. Or a week. Or probably a month.

"Good morning, sir." My tongue felt swollen and heavy. My face felt as if it were on fire and it was all I could do to not turn around to see Robson's reaction at my self-inflicted humiliation.

The only movement on Loki's end was to flip the page.

"I've, ah, brought you coffee." I said, my voice high and breathy.

Again, he did not react. The moments passed by, the coffee grew colder and my fidgeting became worse, before he ever so slowly extended his right arm, not bothering to look up from his reading.

My heartbeat sped up once I realised that I would have to move closer to him. I heard Robson inching closer, but I could have been imagining it. I shuffled forward sideways, trying to make myself as small a target as possible. His fingers flexed; a warning that his patience was wearing thin. By the time I was within his reach, my entire body was quivering and I was terrified I was going to drop the coffee on his foot. Mercifully, before I could, his fingers wrapped around the cup and pulled it from my grasp. His pinky brushed against mine, the skin almost chilly against my overheated skin. As soon as the coffee was safely in his hold, I skipped back and put a few feet of distance between us.

He raised the cup to his lips, slowly, deliberately, still focused on his book. He took but a sip before finally looking at me.

"What is this?" He asked, softly. His tone surprised me, but I reminded myself to not mistake it for civility.

"Caffe latte?" I asked more than said.

"It belongs in a midden." He declared.

I blinked at him, taken aback by his verdict. I had never seen anyone be so opinionated about a measly caffe latte.

"You will get me another drink." He commanded.

"Um, sure. But it would help me if you tell me what you like." I said, trying to sound as cooperative and apologetic as I could. I didn't see why I had to be apologetic about not anticipating an alien's beverage preferences, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

"I told you already I want coffee."

"It has coffee!" I argued. "Sir." I added, hastily.

"Are you calling me a liar?" His eyes flashed.

I opened my mouth to retort that he _was_ the God of Lies and Mischief, after all. My inner voice, however – which had now begun sounding like Stella – begged me to reconsider. So, I said, "Of course not, sir. But caffe latte, by definition, has espresso and steamed milk in it."

Was I really discussing coffee – especially Starbucks coffee – with a Norse god? God, help me.

"What is 'espresso?'" Loki asked, mimicking my pronunciation carefully.

"It's coffee, but more potent."

"There is nothing potent about this drink."

Perhaps the black coffee _would_ have suited him better.

"Okay, I'll get you something stronger tomorrow." I placated.

"Tomorrow?" He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. I immediately took another step back. "Why will I wait for tomorrow? You will get me another drink, _now_."

Was this what the rest of my life was looking like – going on coffee runs for this bastard who took sadistic pleasure out of not telling me what kind of coffee he wanted? I had done enough of that during my internship days; I was certainly not going to carry on the tradition in my full-time job.

"Can we please talk first, sir?"

"You dare bargain with me, worm?"

Oh, we were back to the nicknames, I thought morosely. It was a shame; it was _almost_ pleasant talking with him – as pleasant as talking with anyone like him could be – when he did not insist on belittling me.

"Nooo," I said, my voice increasing in pitch by the end. "No, no. I just want to do my job, please. You said you wouldn't intercede in my work, sir."

I cursed myself for phrasing my objections like that. He was certainly going to view it as I challenging him and this was only going to end in violence again. To my surprise, however, he brought his knuckles to his lips and looked at me contemplatively.

"I suppose you are right. And, I tire of your presence and do not in any way wish to prolong it. Very well, then."

I was amazed by how deftly he'd gone from insulting me to conceding to me. "Thank you."

He smirked. "Of course, we do have a small problem."

My heart started racing again. This man was literally going to be the death of me, one way or another. "What?"

"What shall we do with this pathetic Midgardian excuse for a drink?" Without waiting for an answer, he lifted the cup and jerked it towards me. I shrieked, raising my arms to cover my face, expecting the burn of the liquid any second. Robson rushed to my side, pulling me into him and hunching over me.

We stood like that for what must have been a minute, before Robson whispered to me, "It's okay, miss, you can open your eyes now."

His arms loosened around me, but I did not budge, still wary about getting scalded. Slowly, however, I removed myself from his embrace and turned to look at Loki, who still had the beverage in his hand.

Loki looked back at me, vicious glee lighting up his face. Not breaking eye contact with me, he gracefully, deliberately moved the hand holding the drink through the air. "Sit down, little worm," He said, and put down the cup on the table.

My face heated up from sheer mortification and I stomped rather than walked over to the sofa opposite to him. Robson retreated as well, coming to stop a foot behind the sofa I was occupying.

"Jumpy, are we?" Loki asked, smugly.

"How could I not be?" I lashed out; I couldn't help myself. "You almost killed me yesterday."

"Does it hurt?"

"What?" I asked, confused. Surely, he wasn't asking if I was hurt from yesterday?

"Are you as deaf as you are mentally incompetent, girl? I asked, does it hurt?"

"No," I muttered. It was true. I had woken up, expecting to be incapable of moving my neck, but I was as right as rain.

"Are there any marks?"

"No," I replied, frowning. Why was he inquiring after my welfare?

"Then, I did not 'almost' kill you."

"What?" I couldn't follow the logical leap he'd made.

Loki rolled his eyes. "You are not injured and you are not in pain. Therefore, we can conclude that I had no intention of killing you. If I so wished to, there would be no 'almost' killing you; you would have been as dead as Ymir."

I did not understand the simile, but the meaning was plain enough. I supposed he _had_ been careful. I had been overwhelmed with terror during the actual events. But, when I had thought about them throughout the rest of the day, I had realised that he hadn't inflicted any pain on me. "Thanks," I said, bitterly. Pain or no pain, it did not exonerate him any which way.

The smile returned to his face. "Come now, little worm. You can be politer than that."

"Thank you, sir," I scowled.

"There we go, good little worm." He grinned.

"I have a name, you know." I fisted my pants.

"Good for you!" He exclaimed in mock wonder. "Such a unique little mortal, even having a name!"

"Urgh!" I snarled. "Why can we not have a normal conversation, _sir_?"

"What is an abnormal conversation?" He asked, sweetly.

"This!" I cried, frustrated. "You are always insulting me and threatening me!"

"I have not threatened you today… yet."

"You are still always insulting me!"

"If things are not to your liking, worm, feel free to leave. None, least of all I, desire your company."

I looked away, tears of frustration gathering in my eyes. I could feel both the men observing me and I wanted to flip over the centre table, for no reason other than that it would feel good. _What would Stella do? What would Stella do?_ I asked. _Talk to the bastard. Humour him._ Came the reply. I counted to ten, inhaled and exhaled deep breaths, before turning my head straight again.

"How are you today, sir?" Though I felt calmer, the forced politeness had already started taking a toll on me.

Loki raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure what I was playing at, before deciding to indulge me. "As well as I could have been, before you decided to crawl from your burrow into my chambers, little worm. How are you?"

"Fine," I said, cautiously.

"Of course you are, else you would not have slithered in, despite your claims of me insulting and threatening you. Unless you enjoy that, hmm?"

"It is my job." I glared at him.

"Your job is to be insulted and threatened by me?" He asked, mirthfully. "You should have said so sooner, little worm. I am only too happy to oblige."

"It is my job to work with you, sir." I said, as neutrally as possible.

"Even if you believe you are in mortal peril?" Loki leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. "There are many things in life, however short or long, that you must do against your wishes, but this job is not one of them."

If I hadn't been so angry, frustrated, scared or struggling to keep up with his mood changes, I would have given him a salute. Stella had told me that I would be taking Loki by surprise, but there had been no look corresponding to that emotion on his face when I and Robson had walked in. He had treated me as if we had been scheduled to meet and had gone through this routine multiple times. Now, here he sat, demanding an answer without even having asked a question. Gone was the look of a curious child excited to see how he can make his toy break; he was genuinely interested in me as a person for the first time. He was a bastard, but he was a calculating one, and I couldn't help but admire his way of gleaning information.

"It was this or quit the job."

"And, of course, like the good little worm you are, you chose to wriggle back to me."

"I am here because it is my job to be here, so don't delude yourself," I snapped. "Sir," I quickly amended. Behind me, I felt Robson tense up again.

"You wear skirts _very_ fetchingly, little worm," Loki smiled evilly and I couldn't help but shudder as a fresh wave of embarrassment flooded my veins. "But skirting around the issue is not your strength. Do not try to fend me off with half-answers. I assure you, it will not end well."

I hated myself for shivering. I hated myself for giving in even though I knew he had not yet unleashed the full force of his cruelty and fury on me. "I worked hard to get this job and I am not going to give it up just because you hate me."

"Hate you?" He asked, gasping in mock hurt. "No, little worm. I do not hate you. You are too insignificant to hate."

"Good!" I scowled.

"So insignificant and so young. Stark and his cronies must have been desperate and delusional to think that you could do what others prior to you could not."

I clenched my jaw, irate that he had been able to piece together the crux of the matter from so little information. I tried to mask my emotions, but I needn't have bothered trying, for he noticed my reaction in an instant.

"You want to prove yourself."

"They are just concerned about me because _someone_ decided to assault me." It wasn't a complete lie.

"And you think their concern is unwarranted?"

"No."

"No," He echoed. "But, they show concern because they are worried you are not capable enough."

"I am capable!" I growled, leaning forward as if ready to attack. It didn't take a genius to realise that the quickness and indignation behind my response spoke more than the words themselves.

"But, no one else sees it, do they?"

"I earned this job and I am not going to leave just because you bully me, sir." I snapped, not caring how my response was not an answer to his question. I just wanted to get something out.

Loki looked at me coolly for an uncomfortably long time. I tried to maintain the rigidness in my body, in the hopes that it would drive home my seriousness, but my muscles were beginning to tire. When he did break the silence, it was in a deceptively soft voice. This time, however, I did not think that the softness masked some malicious intent.

"I do not counsel mortals, for they are seldom worthy of my time and expertise. But, I will deign to this one time, so you will pay close attention, mortal," He prefaced. "Do not spend your pathetically short life trying to prove yourself to others. Nothing good or productive will come out of it. Prove yourself to yourself and you will be much more successful and much less bitter."

I gaped at him. All this time, he had been barely civil to me, leave alone respectful. Yet, now he was not just listening to me, but also giving me advice. Not just any advice at that – good, solid, powerful advice. Advice that clearly - again, it did not take a genius to see this - came from personal experience. I didn't know what personal experience he had had, but it comforted me to know that even gods felt at odds sometimes. He looked at me, silently demanding me to show I had understood him. I nodded sharply, and he went back to his neglected book. I should have taken my cue and been sensible and departed. But, we had begun getting along much, much better than I could've imagined and I did not want to end our rendezvous only to revert to the mutual hostility tomorrow.

Daring to take the risk, I spoke up. "Are you hurt?"

He looked up at me, suspicious. "Why would you care?"

"I –" I stumbled. There was no good answer to that. "I'm just hoping you are not in pain."

"Are you, now?" He sneered. I was dismayed, though not completely surprised, to see that almost-benign, contemplative Loki disappear. "Did you not enjoy my pain yesterday?"

"No," I said, quickly.

"Do not lie to me!" He barked.

"Okay, okay!" I said, alarmed. "I'm sorry!"

"Was it not on your command that the man of iron and my brother came swooping in like the heroes from your stories of old?" He continued. "Did you not regret that they did not do to me what I did to you?"

"Firstly, no, I did not sic them on you. And, secondly, I'm not into torture, okay?" I snapped, thoroughly annoyed again. "Fine, I was satisfied you were in pain but I wasn't praying for you to be writhing in agony and begging for mercy. That's really not my style."

"And yet, you wasted a golden opportunity." He jeered. "You should not have stopped Thor and Stark from making me apologise."

"What good would come of that?" I snorted, not failing to notice how again he had not framed his query as a question. "You said I am too insignificant to hate, but making you apologise would have made me significant enough, I guess. And like I said yesterday, you wouldn't have meant it anyway, so what's the point?"

"The point is to use humiliation as a punishment, of course." Loki said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, well," I stood up and adjusted my clothing. I was feeling irritated and upset that he had squashed that tiny sliver of normalcy and decency that had come up barely a minute ago. I had had enough of this man for today, Stella's voice of reason be damned. "You are too insignificant to punish, sir." And without another word or glance, I left.

* * *

 **A/N:** The current score is Reader/Little Worm/Mortal/Kid/Scandal/Lackey: 1; Loki: 1.

Also, Loki dishing out advice is my idea of beginnings of a slow burn, feel free to shoot me if you disagree. Constructive criticism is more than welcome!


	8. That Time We Applied Persuasion Theory

**Chapter Summary:** You try standing up for Loki. Does it end well?

* * *

"You said _what_?" Stella exclaimed.

"I said, 'You are too –'"

"I heard you the first time!"

"No, no, no!" Tony exclaimed, with a shit eating grin. "I want her to say it again."

I rolled my eyes, torn between wanting to give into my mirth and wanting to slap myself for having said something like that. "You are too insignificant to punish, sir."

Tony guffawed. "Oh, wait till I tell Clint this. He's going to love you, kid! And so do I, for that matter!" He walked closer and gave me a fist bump. "See, Stella, I told you she's perfect." Stella merely glowered at us both. Suddenly, his good mood disappeared and he rounded on me. "Wait a second. Did you actually say ' _sir_?'"

My eyes widened and I looked at my feet. "Um… yeah… Loki insisted on being called that."

"For fuck's sake!" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's here on detention, not to jerk off."

I scowled, trying to stop my brain from visualising that action. Mercifully, it complied.

"Whatever happened to 'do not provoke him?'" Stella called out.

"Hey, we were making progress!" I shrugged. "I even tried asking him how he's doing but then he had to become hostile again. I just felt upset because he had actually been nice to me just seconds before… well, as nice as he could be, I guess."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean 'nice?'"

I bit my lip, not willing to give him too much context, but also not wanting for him to be unaware of Loki's attempts at civility. "He… he gave me some advice. Told me to prove myself to myself if I wanted to be successful."

Stella looked intrigued, but that was nothing compared to the look on Tony's face. His mouth hung open, jaw slack and his eyebrows were reaching up to his hairline. He couldn't have been more surprised if someone had told him that Stark Industries had declared bankruptcy.

"He told you _what_?"

"I know, right?" I filled in, not sure what else to say.

He collected his wits before shaking his head. "You must've heard him wrong, Scandal. 'Nice' isn't in his dictionary - or book of spells."

"That _is_ what he said."

"Whatever." He mumbled. "Anyway, Stella, she's right to not be too nice to him. He takes any kindness and niceness as a sign of weakness. You can't be servile to him if you want to properly engage him."

I was bemused by his refusal to grant Loki any concession. He was right to not look too deeply into what had only been three seconds of niceness, but I hadn't expected him to not even give Loki a benefit of doubt. Loki had been living in the Tower for more than a year and was given access to the common areas and the gym in the penthouse levels without any escort. He also had access to Earth entertainment and literature. Clearly, he had been given these allowances because he had reformed to some extent. Then again, I had no right to object. I hadn't been the one to carry a nuke through a wormhole in space and, if the rumours were to be believed, been grabbed by the throat and flung through a glass wall.

"You're a bad influence on her, Tony." Stella said, reproachfully.

"I'm a bad influence on myself," He declaimed. "But, seriously, Scandal. You did good today."

I wasn't sure if better than yesterday counted as 'good', but I smiled. "Thank you."

"Well, come along. There's a lot of work to do," Stella stood up. "And, I have some books on reputation management for you to read." I made a face, but before I could say anything, she butted in, "And don't you dare complain."

I readjusted my expression and we went back to our office, where I settled down to work on whatever the team needed (very interesting) and squeeze in the reading (dreadfully dull). The rest of the week went by in the same way. To my surprise and immense relief, Loki did not bring up my sass from the end of Tuesday. He contented himself with taking a sip from his coffee, berating my ineptitude at fetching him something drinkable and telling me to cease my chattering whenever I tried to engage him in small talk. The result was that I spent an hour each day in his apartment with absolutely nothing to do other than play with my hair.

From Monday onwards I started bringing in my reading. I figured the threat of utter boredom was a good motivator to actually get me to pay attention to the dry and rambling sentences. Once I started paying the words my undivided attention, I found that the ideas weren't bad, even if they were solely focused on the theoretical side. I could have read in the office itself, but I had thought that reading "with" Loki was a way of bonding and Stella had agreed. It was hardly a grand effort, but I knew that it was subtle gestures such as these that formed the bread and butter of PR.

Robson, bless his soul, did not fidget or complain. He reassured me that as long as Loki did not come within touching distance of me, he did not care if I read or slept or danced on the sofa. And, while he still insisting on calling me Lackey, he was good about only addressing me as 'miss' when we were inside Loki's apartment. By Friday, however, I was beyond paying attention to another word in the book. So desperate was I to do anything other than read that I was ready to make another ill-advised attempt at conversation. I shut the book as softly as I could. My stomach was fluttering uncomfortably as I drew in a breath that was too loud for the silence of the room.

"How are you, sir?" I even managed a polite smile.

No response. I hadn't expected him to look up from his book – he had had a new one each day – on my first attempt after all.

"What's this book about, sir?" I tried again.

This time, he deigned to place a finger on his lips.

I waited for a while before prodding again. "Do you need any more books, sir? I'm assuming you must have read them all by now." I finished with an awkward laugh.

He finally looked at me, thoroughly annoyed. I wasn't as worried as I should've been – at this point, I was desperate for him to talk, even if it was to verbally abuse me. "Why do you waste your energy for fetching responses to questions you have no genuine interest in asking?"

"I _do_ care." I said, indignantly.

"Oh?" He exhaled and my relief started taking a turn towards worry. "Well, then, why should I bother giving answers I have no interest in giving?"

I had absolutely no idea how to reply to that, but I didn't want the conversation to shut down. "Aren't you bored of reading?"

"This book is more interesting and useful than an insipid Midgardian like you could even dream to be in a hundred lifetimes."

"Well, what is the book about?" I repeated, desperately trying to keep my temper in check.

"You would not be able to understand the first syllable of it." Loki said, infuriatingly sweetly.

"Try me." I said, trying to sound blasé, but I knew I sounded anything but.

"No." He said simply.

"Why not?" I asked, now genuinely bewildered why he was being so apathetic towards me. The Loki of the past week had been just as I had expected and then some. This Loki, however, was not someone whom I could imagine making a theatrical speech about subjugating humanity while dressed in over-the-top otherworldly armour.

"Because I do not want to." He said, then lurched forward. "Why? What are you going to do? Set your precious Avengers on me simply because I refuse to gush about what an adorable and promising and bright creature you are?"

Where was that coming from? "What? No!"

"Oh wait, I forgot," He interrupted and looked away, then back at me for dramatic effect. "I am too insignificant to punish, after all."

It took two seconds for the implication of the line to sink in, and two more seconds for me to shut my mouth. "Oh, come on!" I spluttered, " _That's_ what this all is about?"

He scoffed. "What do you think I am? A petty mortal, that I will spend my time moping about a feeble attempt at an insult thrown at me?" He sneered. "You did not even dare wait to hear my response. Even with your wet nurse of an agent, you were so scared that you bolted out of my chambers as soon as the words passed your lips."

"I – I did not mean it!" I stammered. I had intended to be sassy, to give back as good as I got, since all our conversations rested on the premise of him insulting me and me being insulted. _Hurting_ him – alien overlord or not – hadn't even crossed my mind.

"Then, you are no different from the rest of your cohort of copulatives." _Cohort of what, now?_ I wanted to ask, but he went on. "Prizing yourself for your supposed code of ethics when all you do is lie and delude yourself into believing you are honest. You neither mean what you say nor say what you mean, but that truth is too painful to accept, is it not? So, you go about your lives, thinking that you are being a beacon of virtue by indulging someone's trivial misery when in reality, you do not care."

Whatever I had been expecting, a sermon hadn't been it. I smarted under the tirade, unsure what was worse: the simmering displeasure behind the rebuke or the fact that I was the target of it. "I am sorry." I said, smally. I wasn't even sure what I was apologising for, or better still, how we had come from him insulting my intelligence to him scoffing at my code of ethics.

"Sir." He added.

"I am sorry, sir." I repeated, irritated at both him and myself.

"Are you, now? Or are these just more empty words with no intent or action to back them?"

"I _am,_ " I affirmed. "But, you're not going to believe me anyway."

"Prove it with your actions."

"What actions?" I looked up, dreading where this was heading.

"Get Stark to lift my confinement to my rooms."

"What?" I asked, shocked. "What confinement?"

"Are you deaf or merely incapable of understanding simple speech?"

I rolled my eyes. "What confinement?" I repeated.

"Do you know what the word 'confinement' means, little worm?" Oh, so not only was I being addressed as a 'little worm', but I was being called that in a patronising tone. Great.

"Yes." I sulked.

"What does it mean?"

I realised he actually wanted me to answer. "Being restricted from going outside."

"Good," He said, with no small amount of fake pride. "Very good."

"Tony did that?" I asked, and immediately cringed inwardly. A few floors above me, Steve Rogers was being Captain America, and here I was, being Captain Obvious.

"Clearly," Loki gritted his teeth.

"I had no idea!" Again, I wasn't a fan of Loki, but I truly did not care for punishing him in any way for his crimes against me.

"How quintessentially mortal of you." He drawled. "Oblivious to everything save your selfish desires and petty existence. Ignorant about what effects you cause, however direct or indirect."

That really wasn't fair coming from the guy who had selfishly tried to take over the world, but I didn't voice that complaint. "Look, sir, I know you have no reason to trust me, but please believe me when I say that I really had no intention for this to happen."

Loki regarded me. "I really do not care about what intentions you do or do not hold. I had been given free run of some floors of the Tower without any escort and now that has all been taken away because your benevolent 'Mr. Stark' used you as an excuse to do what he had wanted all along. Your mortal intellect and behavior are hardly a pleasure to behold, but it is your cluelessness that truly infuriates me."

Like in all conversations with him, I had begun feeling drained. But, this time, there was neither the option to beg for forgiveness, nor the option to deliver a wisecrack and make my escape. What was even more of a bitter pill to swallow was that I now realised my job was going to be way more difficult than I had previously anticipated. My first goal wasn't to improve perceptions of Loki to the people outside – it was to make him likeable to the Avengers themselves. Till I managed to get that done, no effort at presenting him as a reformed, repentant and introspective god to the public was going to matter. The people who had thwarted him and would pay millions to watch Loki burn had to accept him for him to be even allowed to leave his apartment, leave alone the Tower, in the foreseeable future.

After a few minutes of rumination, I spoke up. "I will talk to Mr. Stark and request him to lift your confinement."

"I do not hold much confidence in your assurance. After all, you are still so insignificant yourself."

I didn't take the bait. "Fine, I'll speak to Thor, then."

He huffed. "Well, that may have a higher chance of success."

"Okay. Um." I fidgeted. "I'll go to Mr. Stark now. So. I'll leave you now. Bye."

"About time." Loki muttered.

I got up and ran towards the door, almost slipping in my haste. Robson followed behind me in more leisurely steps.

"Are you going to need me later, Lackey?" He called.

"No, thank you, Agent!" I yelled back. "And _please_ stop calling me that!" I added and raced down to Tony's office.

I had to keep checking in with his secretary throughout the day, for he was occupied in meetings one after the other, but I finally got the green light late afternoon. I was in luck, but only just, for Tony and Pepper were exiting his office arm in arm, clearly ready to celebrate Friday evening.

"Oh, hey, Scandal! Pepper, you remember Scandal, don't you?"

"She's got a nickname already?" Pepper asked, exasperated.

"It's a badge of honour. It means she's a part of the fold."

"By that logic, so is Loki." She muttered loud enough for only us three to hear.

"Pepper!" Tony exclaimed as he put his hand to his chest. "I would _never_ liken someone in the team to Tommy Wiseau!"

I snorted loudly and hastily wiped away the drool from my face. Even Pepper cracked a smile. Tony, of course, was beyond thrilled that two women were amused at his joke.

"I wish I could say his nicknaming get easier to live with," Pepper said to me, "But, I'd be lying. How are you, though? Tony is full of praises for you! How was your first week?"

"Oh, I'm great, thank you!" I said, self-conscious about Tony praising me despite me not having done anything of worth. "And, yes, work is challenging, _obviously_. My first week was great, it did get off to a –" I trailed off when I saw Tony, now standing slightly behind Pepper, making furious gestures at me to not reveal anything.

I swallowed and attempted again. "Yeah, it got off to a surprising start. Loki wasn't as evil as I thought he'd be." That was true – he was way more evil than I could've imagined. I noticed Tony relax and let out a breath of my own.

"Oh?" Pepper looked in surprise between me and Tony. "Wow. Well, that's certainly an improvement. I guess it's all the better that we have you here now!"

"Oh, it's all thanks to Tony." I waved.

"Give yourself some credit, Scandal." Tony said, firmly. "Fresh out of college and having survived a meeting with Reindeer Games is no small feat. Now, is there anything urgent you needed to discuss?"

"It's about Loki," I said.

I wasn't entirely surprised when Tony nodded at Pepper to carry on. She gave me a little hug and trilled, "See you later, sweetie," And went on her way.

Once she was out of earshot, Tony spoke. "That was a good save there, kid. Remember, Pepper can know nothing about Loki's shit. Your job and my life are at stake."

I nodded.

"Right, now, tell me what's up."

I had been preparing my speech throughout the day. My first step was to play on his existing beliefs and create a need for information.

"So, you know how he was so moody and grumpy all of this week and the previous one?" I began, conspiratorially.

He nodded.

"Well, I found out why he was acting so sullen!"

"Why?" He asked.

"Because he took my 'You are too insignificant' line to heart!" I crowed.

"Seriously?" He exclaimed.

"Yep!" I bobbed my head.

"How did you find out?" He asked, having excitedly taken the bait.

Step 1 was a success. Now, step 2: Fulfill the need for information.

"Well, I tried to get him to talk to me. He said no, then he asked me if I was going to sic you on him. Then he went all, 'Oh, wait a minute, I'm too insignificant to punish!'" I deepened my voice and made the words sound colder and more clipped in what I hoped was a good imitation of Loki.

"That man's such a fucking diva," Tony muttered.

"I know, right?" I gushed. I didn't actually feel up to insulting and abusing Loki at the moment, but persuasion theories demanded I understand the beliefs and values of my audience, and etiquette demanded I agree with my boss. "It's really not easy working with him."

"Tell me about it." He grumbled. "Has he been behaving otherwise?"

"I guess. But I'd really like to get the ball rolling. I hope I'm not being too forward when I say this," I began, "But I was wondering if you could help me get him to open up a bit more?"

Tony loved solving problems and asking for his help was the best way to get him in agreement. True to my calculation, he looked surprised, but pleased, to have been asked. "How can I help you with that?"

"A part of his angst seems to come from being confined to his rooms all day. Perhaps, if you would allow him to leave his apartment for a few hours a day, he would be more compliant and less broody?"

Tony stared hard at me. With every passing second, my courage started crumbling and I opened my mouth to take back my words. "Of course, you know best, I was just suggesting, I wouldn't dare…" I started rambling, but he held up a hand to stop me.

"What has he been telling you, kid?"

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked.

He shook his head. "I'm not angry, kid. And don't you dare feel worried about suggesting something or bringing up an idea, okay? I just want to know what he's been saying to you."

"He said that you had given him freedom to leave the apartment but after I came you took it away." I said, softly, feeling extremely foolish now.

He inhaled sharply. "Right, two things: first, yes, I took away his freedom to leave the apartment unescorted whenever he wants after he pulled that stunt with you. But, he still gets to leave in the morning for three or four hours to work out and train. Second, even when he did have unrestricted access to the rest of the penthouse, he would more often than not brood and act all emo rather than accept Thor's invitation to join the us. Not that I or anyone else minded, of course. We'd rather not be around Loki, and Loki would rather not be around us. But, here's my point: whatever spiel he's been giving you, he's not exactly locked up and left to rot – remember, he was there without a chaperone when you came for your interview. And, he has had the choice to leave his rooms, but it's not my fault he hardly ever took up on that offer."

"Oh," I muttered, now feeling like the dumbest fucking person ever. My fists were clenched, my jaw hurt from how I was grinding it and my face felt uncomfortably hot. The most embarrassing bit was that technically, Loki hadn't even lied to me. It was I, in my infinite thickheadedness, who had assumed he had been locked away and deprived of all social contact.

"Yeah." Tony intoned. "Look, Scandal, I can make out you're very conscientious and caring – and those are great qualities to have in a PR – but you can't let Loki exploit that. Heck, the man was hissing in your face two weeks ago, choking you last week and had the audacity to accuse you for being the cause for his 'imprisonment' this week!"

"God…" I groaned and rubbed my face. How could I have been so stupid? _Loki was right,_ I thought. _I really was pathetic._

"Hey, hey, hey," Tony put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed, "Breathe. It's okay. Thank you for being brave enough to come up to me and talk with me. I've made no secret of how much I hate his slimy, oily self, after all. But, kid, you really need to stop letting him manipulate you so easily. Can't you see how completely unreliable and untrustworthy he is?"

"What am I supposed to do then?" I cried. "How can I do my job if I can't even work with him?"

"No one's stopping you from working with him. You just need to be more aware that this is not a guy with a midlife crisis embezzling his company to pay for private orgies; this is _Loki_. His lies and manipulation are a notch more sophisticated than the guy trying to pass off a visit to the strip club as a business visit to his wife. You need to remember that this is the same guy who has hurt thousands of people. You cannot and _should not_ forget that – and you cannot and should not try to erase that."

"Yup," I said, glumly, not sure whether I wanted to kick him or myself more. "I'm sorry."

"Scandal," He sighed. "Stop saying you're sorry. Just don't forget what I'm telling you and work on it, okay?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Okay. I need to go, now, but hit me up if you need something else!" Tony said as he started rushing towards the exit.

"Will do!" I said, flatly.

I waited till he had disappeared, before running down to my office. It was Friday evening and much of the team had already left, save for Roisin and Morgan. After a cursory discussion of weekend plans, I swooped down to retrieve my phone. Feeling hesitant about starting ranting in the still-occupied office, I made a beeline for the restroom. After checking beneath the doors of the stalls to make sure it was truly empty, I pulled out my phone and began stabbing the screen. Robson's name came up, and I pressed the green button.

"Agent Robson!" I shrieked, as soon as he picked up the phone.

"What's up, Lackey?" The nickname and the calm tone of his voice did my anger no wonders.

"Don't call me that!" I spat.

"Okay, okay," He whistled. "Take a chill pill. What's up?"

"Are you still around?" I asked, trying to sound relaxed and not bitchy.

"No, I left two hours ago. Do I need to come in?"

I exhaled. "No, no." Just because Loki had ruined my Friday, it didn't mean I had to ruin someone else's. I wasn't going to call Robson away from his well-deserved weekend simply because I wanted to slap Loki to kingdom come. "No. It's okay. See you on Monday. Sorry. Thanks. Bye."

I ran down the stairs to my apartment. Flinging the door open, I tossed my purse in one direction, my phone in another (making sure it safely landed on a soft surface), flipped my shoes off, fisted my hair, took in a deep breath and screamed.

* * *

 **A/N:** Score: Scandal - 1, Loki - 2.

Also! Copulatives is a word Shakespeare uses in As You Like It as an insult - it literally means fuckers. So, Loki just called the Avengers a cohort of fuckers in Shakespearean. You're welcome.

And... I wanted to make this chapter WAY more Loki focused, but honestly, I'm enjoying writing Irondad more than I thought I would be! Hope you guys like it too, please do let me know if you think I should/or shouldn't continue in this vein! I really welcome your feedback. Anyway, next chapter is going to have a lot more Loki and burgeoning sexual tension ;)


	9. That Time We Availed Employee Benefits

**Chapter summary:** You get to work out with Clint and check out some Odinsons.

* * *

 _BANG BANG BANG_

"Stop…" I moaned.

 _BANG BANG BANG_

"Stop!"

 _BANG BANG BANG_

"STOP!" I thrashed about and immediately fell out of my bed. I clutched my bed weakly as I trembled all over and my pupils wildly darted about in every direction. The pain in the arm on which I'd landed quickly began cutting through my confusion and rooted me in the present. I realised that the banging I'd been hearing came from someone knocking on my door. Clumsily, I shot my hand out towards the bedside table in search for my phone. Rubbing the stickiness from my eyes, I stared hard at the screen, not sure if my brain was seeing the correct information.

Someone was knocking on my door.

At 6 am.

On a Saturday.

"Scandal!" Someone's voice called out. "Wake up, buddy!"

 _What?_

I heaved myself off the floor – with no small effort – and swayed lightly on the spot. It took me a while to remember that _I_ was Scandal. It took me another few seconds to remember that that was Tony's preferred moniker.

Why was Tony knocking on my door at 6 in the morning on a Saturday? Heck, was it even Tony? The voice sounded different. Frustratingly, it was not relenting.

"Scandal, wake up, I know you're in there, dude."

 _Dude?_

As far as I knew, Tony never called me dude. So if this wasn't Tony, then who was it?

 _Loki._

Panic seized me but relinquished its hold on me almost as quickly when I realised that Loki would never call me dude either. But, what if he was acting? Surely, impersonation was one of his many deadly abilities. But, why had he come down to my apartment? Did he even know where I lived? I doubted it, but I wasn't completely sure. I quickly dismissed the idea of climbing down the fire escape – while I would have rather frozen to death than confront Loki at this hour, it was going to take simply too much effort.

It was then that a truly groundbreaking idea struck me: I could use the peephole on my door. Exasperated with the slowness of my brain, I shuffled towards the kitchen, withdrew a knife, then headed towards the door. Not even daring to breathe, I looked through the peephole and gasped.

It was Agent Barton.

I unlatched the lock and opened the door slowly – more out of lethargy than caution. When it became clear to me that he wasn't going to dissolve into thin air and transform into Loki, I dumbly asked, "What?"

"Finally, dude. I've been standing here for an hour!"

"Huh?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Didn't Tony tell you?"

"Tell me what?" I asked, beginning to sway on the spot again.

"About your training?" He asked, slowly.

"What training?" Any moment longer, and I was going to fall asleep standing up.

"Why are you holding a knife, kiddo?"

"What?" I asked, then remembered that I was clutching a knife. "Oh." I found myself unable to vocalise anything.

"Are you okay? You look… exhausted."

"Yeah. Sure. I was asleep."

"Don't tell me you were stabbing people in your sleep." He laughed. At least one of us was being entertained from this situation.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep now." I yawned and began shuffling back.

"Yeah, sorry, kiddo, that's going to wait." He sounded sorry, but I didn't believe him.

"Why?" I asked, almost ready to cry now.

"Like I said, I'm here for your training session."

" _What training?_ "

"Self-defense, man. You work for Loki, so you gotta know how to defend yourself. Tony's been telling me what's been happening between you two. Since Tony doesn't know how to spell the word 'dangerous', leave alone know what it means, I volunteered to help you out."

"Don't you have something better to do?" I blurted, then winced at how bitter and ungrateful I sounded. Whatever.

"Wow," He whistled. "I can see why Tony likes you."

"I mean," I hopped on one foot, then the other, "Why not tell someone else to do it? Why you? Why _now_?"

"I can't get someone to give you one-on-one lessons on how to hypothetically protect yourself from a god when you're not even a SHIELD trainee and when the only god who's here according to public knowledge is Thor."

"Right."

"As for why it has to be _now,"_ He continued, "Neither of us has any time otherwise."

"There's time… after 6…" I whispered.

"Not for me," He whispered back. "I don't get to have a weekend."

A dry sob escaped my mouth.

"Oh, come on, dude," Agent Barton ruffled his hair. "I thought this was going to be fun. Would you really rather die at Loki's hands than learn how to defend yourself from him?"

At this moment, I would actually have welcomed death, but I perceived that the question was rhetorical and my answer would not be appreciated. So, I settled on, "I have Agent Robson to keep me safe."

"Yeah, and Loki can probably kill him from ten feet away before either of you can even say 'Asgard'. You still need to know how to make your escape." He sighed loudly, before adding, "Alright, enough talk. Go change into your workout clothes. The longer you dawdle the more I'm going to make you sweat."

"What if I don't have workout clothes?" I asked, clutching on to my last ray of hope.

He shrugged. "Workout clothes, pyjamas, speedos – it's all the same to me. Heck, I'd teach you how to fight in stilettos and a dress, but that's not my area of specialty. Maybe I can rope Nat in for one lesson."

I stared at him before he huffed again. "Well, what are you waiting for? Go on! And please, drop the knife; it's bad enough Loki keeps brandishing his."

I scowled and slithered back inside, making no effort to shut the door gently. I put the knife back in the kitchen and sluggishly changed into my workout clothes. I stared longingly at the bed. I could practically hear the blankets luring me back into the warmth and softness, but I had no choice but to resist. Still, it didn't mean I had to be prompt either. I took my sweet time, going close to push my luck, but not quite; no one messed with an Avenger. Unless they were Loki, of course.

I stepped out and we fell into step as he began leading us to wherever. "So, why were you carrying a knife?" He asked.

"Hmm?" I asked, still a little dazed. "Oh. I guess I…" I trailed off.

"You thought I was Loki?" He prompted, a tad amused.

"Yeah." I admitted, sheepishly.

"Man's worked a number on you."

That he had for sure, and so far, his worst crime seemed to be him being directly responsible for me having to wake up so early on the weekend. I was still grumpy, but I was also curious. "So, what, do you do this for everyone who decides to become Loki's PR?"

"Nah. Haven't needed to; you're the first one he's attacked."

"Great." I grumbled.

"Yeah, you've got quite a mouth on you. I don't think anyone else pissed him off like you did."

"Believe me, it was all unintentional."

"I sure hope so! I know you're swayed by Tony and want to be as cool as him, but that doesn't mean you should lose your head in the process, kiddo. Don't let Tony's excitement get the better of you."

"He said that you would enjoy my comebacks." I said, wryly.

He grinned. "I sure do. That _may_ have been a part of why I signed up to teach you. But, I won't advocate them. I wouldn't mind watching Loki burn, but that doesn't mean I'm going to make you set him aflame.

"That's nice of you," I jested.

Agent Barton took me up to the Avengers' private gym in the penthouse. To say it was cavernous would be an understatement – it spanned an entire wing and reached up to the topmost floor of the Tower. It was partitioned into many rooms, fields and courts varying in space and height. I read the names of the sections as we walked past the doors: aerial combat, anti-gravity chamber, simulation and rock climbing, and many more. The one that most interested me was the underwater combat zone.

He must have noticed the wonder on my face, for he commented, "We ended up betting whether the Hulk could survive underwater. I've never seen Bruce as happy as the Hulk as he was in that moment. Tony betted against him surviving… and ended up losing a lot of money. It was a good day."

In my mind's eye I saw an ugly green behemoth acting like a well-trained dolphin at SeaWorld. It was grotesquely hilarious.

"Am I even supposed to be here?" It looked too high-tech for me to even breathe here, leave alone train.

"Not really. But, I can't take you down to the gyms for the SHIELD agents or regular employees because people will ask why you're getting a one-on-one with me. I also can't ask a SHIELD agent to train you, for the same reason. We do have instructors who hold self-defense classes for our employees, but those won't teach you how to fend off a god. So here's where it's gonna be. Don't worry," He added, seeing my look of hesitation. "I've cleared it with Tony."

I nodded, "Thank you, Agent Barton."

He smiled. "Just call me Clint, kiddo."

I nodded again. We finally came to a stop at a large blue-coloured mat that ran across the rest of the room. The walls were metallic silver and white, a colour scheme more appropriate for a laboratory than a gym. The lights were on, though I noticed that the gym was surrounded by metal blinds that could be raised to let in the sunlight. There were observation decks above, though at the moment they were empty. At the far end of the mat was a rack. It was full of knives, swords, maces, axes and spears of all sizes, and even a couple of hammers. I followed Clint on to the mat and he turned to face me.

"How much physical activity do you do each week?"

I thought for a moment. "I used to work out for an hour or so thrice a week, but I haven't been doing much since I joined here three weeks ago.

"Hmm. So you aren't in good shape."

Well, yes, I was no Gisele Bündchen, but that didn't mean I wasn't passable for my age, height, weight and lifestyle. "It's not that bad," I grumbled.

"We'll have to ease you in anyway. There's a 400m track marked here, let's make one lap around that."

Clint and I jogged alongside in silence. To my chagrin, but not surprise, he barely broke a sweat. I, on the other hand, couldn't hide my own perspiration, but I tried to control my breathing to not show just how out of breath I was. Over the next hour and a half or so, we did some plyometrics, core-strengthening exercises, cardio and stretches. I appreciated how patient he was with me and how committed he was to making sure my form was right. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to correctly position myself for a push-up or a sit-up or a triceps-dip and he made me start from the beginning if my form faltered even once. Despite his penchant for perfectionism, he was careful to not over-exert me. I came to the conclusion I would never be able to turn to a hired gym instructor again after training under Clint.

"I think that's enough for today." He declared at long last. "Take a hot shower so that your muscles don't cramp up. If you're up to it, take a warm shower before you sleep tonight as well. You should be feeling better by tomorrow and once we get going again, your soreness will disappear for good."

"Get going… again?" I asked, mildly horrified.

"You don't think you can become fit by just working out once a week, do you?"

"But… my weekend…" I pleaded. I _needed_ to sleep till at least ten in the morning on weekends to feel fully replenished. Clearly, I still hadn't shrugged off my college habits.

"Well, this is how we're doing things for at least the next two weeks. However," He looked at me sternly, "If you take the time to work out for even half an hour each weekday, I will see the difference and might decide to cut back on Sunday workouts."

I almost clapped my hands in glee and nodded. A second later, however, I realised that half-an-hour a day was easier said than done. Still, if a few extra hours of sleep on the weekend was my incentive, then I was damn well going to work towards it.

"Okay," Clint said. "Let's get Princess Aurora back to her beauty sleep." He walked off the mat and I followed him. We began retracing our steps when a booming voice echoed in the gym. I jumped at the sound, then twitched when I saw the source of it appear.

It was Thor – my lips stretched into a wide grin.

Followed by Loki – my smile collapsed.

"Lady Scandal!" Thor exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here!"

Loki came to a stop next to his brother, looking as displeased and sour as Thor looked gladdened and welcoming. He rolled his eyes, then cocked his head and examined me. It was a short but tense silence, during which his lips slowly arranged themselves into a mocking smile. For some reason, that look grated upon my nerves more than usual. There was something that I was forgetting. Something that he was silently taunting me about. Something that had happened recently – as recently as…

 _Yesterday._

"You!" I shrieked. Thor and Clint looked at me in equal parts confusion and alarm.

"Me," Loki's smile turned into a full-blown grin. "Me, me and me."

" _You!_ " I spluttered, unable to get any further.

"Yes, use your words, sweetling." Loki cooed.

"You lied to me!" I cried.

"No."

"You said you were confined to your apartment!"

"I am."

"You failed to mention that you were _allowed_ to leave your apartment for three to four hours each day to work out!"

"Did I?" He asked, not trying very hard to sound innocent. Even if he had been trying, however, if there was one thing this man was incapable of doing, it was acting innocent.

"Yes! You lied to me by omission!" I spat, my fists begging to connect with that smug face of his.

"Oh, dear," He looked at me, wide-eyed. "Did they forget to tell you? I am the God of Lies."

"What are you two bickering about?" Clint spoke up.

"Nothing." I growled, too embarrassed to let Clint in on my stupidity.

"Why so shy, little one?" Loki crooned. "Tell Barton how you so _ardently_ leapt to fight in my name and defend my honour."

"Oh, so, it is 'little one' in front of the others now, is it?" I asked, pointedly avoiding anything else that he'd said.

He narrowed his eyes. "You are much pluckier when surrounded by your superheroes. Let us see how much of that pluck remains come Monday."

"Doesn't it get boring, man? Always threatening and belittling people?" Clint intervened, as he stepped closer to me. "Don't you feel like taking up gardening sometimes?" Without giving Loki a chance to answer, he turned to me and asked, "What happened yesterday?"

"Nothing, I was being silly," I mumbled.

"Scandal," He stared me down and I relented.

"Fine. He said that Tony had confined him to his apartment after what he'd done at my interview. I thought that he meant that he wasn't allowed to leave his apartment _at all._ I decided to speak to Tony about letting him out and Tony told me that one, he wasn't confined 24/7 and two, he rarely left even if given the choice. So, yeah, I was an idiot." I said, crossly, then whined, "I just felt bad, okay?"

"Brother, why are you so dismissive of someone who wishes to take your side?" Thor asked, softly.

"She does not wish to take my side. She merely wishes to advance her own selfish and ignorant ambitions."

Thor scoffed, "Loki, you are no one to preach about selflessness and being free of ambitions. If you cannot accept that she is on your side because she truly wishes to be, then at least accept that you are still benefitting from her actions. Whatever her reasons, she is still fighting for you."

"I do not need anyone to fight for me." Loki bit back. "I have fought my own battles all these years and I certainly do not need anyone's help now, least of all a mortal's."

"By the Ginnungagap," Thor swore. "Why are you always so prickly, you fool?"

Before any more Asgardian family drama could unfold, Clint interjected. "Are you two going to start training or are you going to keep clucking like hens for the rest of the morning?"

The talk of training markedly changed Thor's mood. "Yes, it has been far too long since we properly sparred, has it not, brother?" He asked as he made his way to the mat.

"What can I say? I am not a fan of the way you grunt and smell like a bilgesnipe."

"You would, too, if you dared to exercise your muscles rather than resort to tricks."

Loki opened his mouth, but snapped it shut before he could make a retort. Instead, a sour smile worked its way on his lips. "I would not challenge a man who has survived impalement at the hands of a cursed Svartálfar, but you never had much for brains anyway. But, no matter. I cannot but consent to fight on your terms. No seiðr. My knives against your Jarnbjorn."

Thor hesitated before Loki prompted, "Surely, you do not need the power of Mjölnir to aid you against a Loki without seiðr?"

At that, Thor chuckled. "Brother, I do not need Mjölnir even when you do resort to seiðr. Nor do I require the Jarnbjorn. I shall fight with one of the replicas of my hammer that Tony has added here."

Loki smiled thinly. "Then, let us begin."

This was sibling-rivalry on an entirely new level and I knew I would never find inner peace until I'd seen what had come of this god-tier pissing contest. I doubted the show _Vikings_ could ever hold a candle to the live alien soap opera playing in front of me. It was adorable that these gods, who were over a thousand years old, were no less petty than two under-ten year olds fighting for the TV remote, however much they claimed otherwise. And, it was downright exciting to see what a god fight would end up being like.

Thor must have sensed my excitement, for he sauntered over to me and said, "You are welcome to spectate, Lady Scandal. Perhaps it would help you become less afraid of my brother."

Loki, who had directed his attention to the weapon rack at the other side of the mat, swiveled around to glare in our general direction. I turned to look at Clint, a silent plea on my face.

"Why not," He remarked. "I dare say you've earned a treat. You _are_ going to enjoy this."

I grinned and Thor went to the rack to select one of the replicas. Loki stood in the centre, resting his weight on one leg. His attention was focused on his knives, one of which he was casually stroking and the other that he was flipping at the same time. He had no eyes for anything else, but he was acutely aware of anything and everything that was happening around him. Despite the concentration he must have been exerting, his stance was at ease. He looked more relaxed toying with his knives than any other time that I had seen him.

Thor walked back, having chosen his weapon. The brothers nodded at each other, smacked one palm against the other's and began their duel.

I hadn't seen many fights, but even my inexperienced eyes could make out the difference between this and a 'regular' fight. There was a vitality in them that simply could not exist in a mortal. My own clumsy movements from the past hour threw into sharper relief the precision, dexterity and strength of their attacks and defenses. Thor was, for want of a better word, glorious. Simply glorious. The momentum with which he threw himself into every attack was unnerving, but he had fantastic control over his strength. I had thought that acquiring musculature such as his would require sacrificing agility and finesse, but he had proven me wrong.

The opposite was true as well. I had equated leanness with agility and finesse, but Loki was showing that that did not mean giving up strength. While Thor chose to crowd in his opponent, Loki chose to deploy more guerilla-style tactics, leaning in one moment and backing away the next, but not before delivering a little nick to the ribs or a punch to the solar plexus. He was fast and graceful and could have put a ballerina to shame. So quick were his movements that I had to keep twisting my head to keep up with them both, until Loki was all I could focus on.

Today, he was wearing a black tee and slim black sweatpants. It was the first time that I had seen him in 21st-century-Earth clothing. It was surprising to see him in something so simple and unfettered as a tee and sweatpants. Even at his most casual, he had always worn uncomfortable-looking Asgardian garb. He had worn those clothes well enough, but I had definitely not expected to see him carry off Earth fashion so effortlessly. I had seen Thor in Earth clothes and most of the times he looked more like a homeless person than a superhero. But, Loki looked as if he was modelling for the clothes; the pants defined the length of his legs and the tee showed off the hard contours of his torso. The black may have been too stark for his complexion, but it brought more attention to how surprisingly well defined and toned his pale arms were. He had always reminded me of Professor Snape - lean, mean and greasy. It was clear to me now that Loki was, at the very least, more athletic than Snape.

I turned my attention down to his hands and watched the flicks and turns of his wrist. He held the knives in an almost relaxed fashion, as if they were not separate entities, but extensions of his hands. I trailed my eyes up again, this time to his face. The damp ends of his hair were plastered rather artistically to the side of his face and showed off the sharpness of his cheekbones and jawline. I followed the drop of sweat that ran down his forehead through the centre of his nose. A small, petty part of me wanted to punch him in the face because it wasn't fair just how lucky he was to naturally have such a perfectly straight nose.

Suddenly, Loki's face disappeared from my line of sight. He ended up was on the floor with one of Thor's knees on his chest and his hammer right above his face.

"I yield." Loki said, hoarsely.

I stared blankly. I was so preoccupied that I had not realised the fight was over. Clint began clapping and it took me a second or two to snap out of my haze and start clapping as well, less enthusiastically than Clint. He walked over to Thor, who promptly began showing off his swings and strikes. I reached down to pick a bottle of water that Clint had brought, only now becoming aware of how thirsty I was. I tipped the lip of the bottle into my mouth – and that was when Thor took off his sweaty shirt. I pressed the bottle more firmly against my lips, not trusting myself to not make a noise if I were not constrained. As the water gushed down my throat, I watched the sweat hug and trickle down those magnificent abs. I gulped again and again, desperate for the water to cool me down. I couldn't turn my eyes away and my gulps became even more frantic as my gaze travelled down to his V-line. I was halfway through the bottle by now and was going to end up peeing on the spot – whether from the water or the excitement or both, I knew not – but I couldn't stop.

Suddenly, the bottle tipped higher and grazed my teeth and lips painfully. I made a sound of protest and the water ended up going down my wind pipe. I coughed furiously, tears streaming from my eyes at the pressure. The remaining water slid down my chin on to my chest. The bottle fell away and once I'd got over the worst of my coughing fit, I whipped around to the side.

"Oh, dear. You have wet your shirt."

Loki.

 _Of course._

" _You_ wet my shirt!" I snapped, trying to not look too obvious as I brought my hands up to my chest. By then, I could feel my top beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin and my nipples hardening. I squarely wrapped my arms around myself, for that was clearly the lesser evil. Clint and Thor turned to look around and I flushed even more with embarrassment. Great – my shirt was wet, see-through and my nipples stood to attention as three guys surrounded me.

Loki – _of course_ – looked supremely pleased with himself. Yet, he still managed to sound bored as he said, "You were ogling my brother."

I glared at him in disbelief. "Did you see that?" I asked, loudly. I turned to Clint and Thor, almost forgetting to keep my arms in place. "He tipped my bottle and wet my shirt!"

"Loki," Clint sighed. "How long is it going to take you before you realise your PR is not your punching bag?"

"Oh, do forgive me," Loki said, politely. "I thought the letters P and R stood for 'punching representative!'"

"Don't act cute." Clint barked.

"I apologise on his behalf, my lady," Thor said. "He's just frustrated that I've bested him in close combat – again."

Loki and I both rolled our eyes, but for obviously different reasons. "It's not your fault, okay?" Thor really needed to stop apologising for Loki.

He and Clint kept an eye on Loki, but didn't move any closer. Loki was still staring at me and I turned back to face him. "What?" I snarled.

He merely smiled gleefully.

I whined, "Why are you always so horrible to me?"

"What have you done to deserve any different?" He asked, indulgently.

I rolled my eyes again. "You're just taking out your anger at losing on me."

"Maybe. But, maybe, I was getting sick with watching how you, like every other wretched mortal woman on this prick of a planet, were undressing him with your eyes."

"Why are you so upset?" I retorted. "At least, I wasn't ogling you!"

Loki's smile turned into a dangerous, sly smirk. My heart began pounding; that look never boded well. He inclined his head towards me, eyes slightly hooded and whispered, "Were you not?"

I inhaled sharply. Before I could open my mouth to form a semi-coherent reply or dissolve into garbling, Clint came to my rescue. I was practically shaking with relief as he said, "That's all we got time for today, Scandal," and began leading me away.

Just before I stepped out of his reach, Loki bent down to whisper, "We will continue this conversation on Monday, little worm." His fingers lightly grazed my wrist. I snatched my hand away as if his touch had burned me and marched out, focusing on putting one foot forward rather than the heat in my cheeks.

I didn't bother saying goodbye to Thor, for I knew Loki would be staring at me, judging and analysing my actions and storing them away for future humiliation. The weekend was nowhere close to being over and I was already dreading Monday. Loki was going to be insufferable and he was not going to let me live this encounter down. Clint and I walked in silence as my brain went into an overdrive creating talking points for the upcoming 'conversation'. My shirt was still wet, but he was tactful and decent enough to not bring it up. It wasn't long, however, before I sensed him looking at me intently.

"What?" I muttered, tired of being stared at by all these superbeings. This really wasn't what I had meant when I had said I wanted more male attention.

"Do you have a boyfriend, buddy?"

"What?" I asked, taken aback.

"Whoa, easy," He laughed. "I'm not hitting on you, don't worry."

"No," I said, unsure if it was the right answer. "Why?"

"Just curious. We require that SHIELD recruits do not have any significant others during their trainee period, because it creates a lot of distractions. But, you're not a SHIELD recruit, so there's no reason why you shouldn't have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Or whoever you like, really."

"Sure," I said, just as uncertainly as before.

He kept looking at me intently.

"What, Clint?" I asked, now thoroughly annoyed.

"It would be good for you to have a nice boyfriend, kiddo." He said, trying to sound casual. "He'll keep you… distracted."

"From what?" I snapped, more heatedly than I meant to.

"From the pressures of your work…" He shrugged. "And… well… from Loki."

"What?" I came to a stop and rounded on him.

"Look, I'm not judging you," He began, gravely. "And, I don't want to stereotype, but what I've seen is that young women tend to be attracted to the 'bad boys,'" He made air quotes, "And, god knows that Loki is all that and more. He can be very charming when he wants to. Especially when he's bored and wants to create chaos."

"Why are you bringing all this up?" I asked, agitatedly. Had he seen me going glassy-eyed over Loki as well? I was never going to live this down, was I? The best thing to do would be to hand in my resignation. That way, I would be under no obligation to wake up for a workout tomorrow morning.

He had the decency to blush. "I just got the sense you were very invested in the fight," He said, more tactfully than even I could have. Of course, he didn't need to say it but it was obvious that he had noted my delay and reluctance in clapping for Thor. I shouldn't have been surprised; the man was called Hawkeye, after all. Still, it was irritating and infantilising on his part to assume that just because I _might_ have been checking out Loki, I was going to make heart eyes at him.

"Thanks, Clint." I said, tetchily. "I was just watching the fight. I didn't mean to give you any cause for worry. Rest assured, I'm not planning on dating a psychopath anytime soon."

I knew I wasn't being fair because he had my best interests at heart, but what annoyed me even more was that he wasn't completely wrong. I had never had much patience for bad boys, but there was no denying they had a certain charm. Still, what the hell was I doing fawning over two aliens, and one of them a psychopath, at that?

"Oh, come on, dude. I'm not saying you were going even come close to something like that," He said, reproachfully. "Look, just think of it this way: work-life balance is important. You need a way to unwind and a way to let that asshat not get to your head. Trust me, I know all about having your head messed around with."

I softened my expression and nodded. "See you tomorrow, same time?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "Have a good rest of your day. Try to catch some sleep if you can!"

I rolled my eyes and made my way back to my room, desperate to take a shower and get some much needed time to myself. Needless to say, I wasn't going to be checking out any man, leave alone a god, for a long time.

* * *

 **A/N:** Score: Scandal - 1; Loki - 3

What did you guys think? Did you like it? Constructive criticism is always welcome! And, if you're interested, this story is also posted on my AO3 and Tumblr, which are the same as my FF =)


	10. That Time We Evaluated Job Satisfaction

**Chapter summary:** Awkward doesn't even begin to describe things between you and Loki. You begin to wonder whether there is any point in sticking with this job.

* * *

 _"No one can help you now, worm." Loki declared._

 _"Please, please, no, I'm sorry!" I pleaded._

 _Loki tutted at me. "I know you are… but you will be far sorrier by the time I'm done with you."_

 _"Please, I'm sorry." I began sobbing._

 _"Do you know what you did wrong?"_

 _"Yeah," I sniffed._

 _He bent down to my height and gazed into my eyes. His expression was as steady and controlled as his voice, but there was no denying the lurid satisfaction simmering beneath the surface. "You know you are to call me 'sir' at all times, do you not?"_

 _"Yes, sir."_

 _"Good." He stood up straight again and began circling me. I kept looking straight ahead, sensing that following him with my eyes would only make matters worse. "Now. What did you do wrong?"_

 _"I forgot to bring you your frappuccino with whipped cream," I wept._

 _"That you did, little worm. I must punish you now."_

 _My breathing became erratic and my eyes darted wildly about his apartment, done up exclusively in white. It was some Norse version of 50 shades of grey – 50 shades of white, perhaps. Sadly, I didn't see any gratification – delayed or imminent – for myself. The only person who was going to get off this was Loki. A murmur escaped my lips, but I quickly silenced it, lest it gave him any further cause for annoyance._

 _"Because you forgot to bring me whipped cream," He thought out loud, "I will whip_ you."

 _"AGENT ROBSON!" I cried, now unable to restrain my anguish._

 _Suddenly, Robson materialised. My knees almost gave way from relief. But, my joy was short-lived, for he said, "You are his Lackey, after all. You must do whatever he says."_

 _And with those damning words, he promptly disappeared._

 _"Loki," I sobbed, as one final plea._

 _"Hush, little worm." Loki crooned. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a snake-like whip appear in his hand. Correction, it_ was _an actual snake. I screamed in horror and he brought it down on me, but my body didn't ache. Only my head hurt – perhaps that was from the ringing of the whip._

 _Vaguely, I wondered, what whips – or snakes – rang when brought down upon their target._

 _RRRING RRRING_

 _The headache was worsening._

 _RRRING RRRING_

 _"I'm sorry!" I sobbed. "Please!"_

 _RRRING –_

I woke up.

By the time I had managed to turn off the alarm, the dream had already faded away. The only thing I remembered was that it was about Loki.

Of course, it had been about Loki. That man had begun consuming every thought I had throughout the day. I woke up dreading how he was going to torture me each day. I couldn't buy coffee anymore without envisioning his stupid smirk in my head. Whenever I worked out, I found it hard to forget that I was sweating my ass off because of him. Before I went to sleep each night, I prayed to Thor to break Loki's nose or split his lip or powder his teeth – anything to wipe the smugness off his face.

And boy, had there been a lot of that lately.

I had entered his apartment on Monday, anticipating all the humiliation he was going to heap on me, but prepared to deflect it no matter what. I had given him his caffeine fix for the day – caffe mocha with three espresso shots – but refused to look into his eyes or say even a word to him. The tables had turned now; it was I who was refusing to talk this time. Of course, my stoniness only deepened the smugness in his expression. He kept smiling at me throughout the week, looking equal parts insidious and mischievous. I knew what he was doing. He wanted to unsettle me into being the first to speak. And, if I did speak, I would start a game that I knew I was only going to lose. Sadly, avoiding humiliation wasn't strong enough an incentive, so I bribed myself with a dinner at Tavern on the Green if I managed to remain silent. It wasn't easy, but the prospect of good food convinced me to hold my tongue the entire week.

I should have known, however, that Loki wasn't going to back down.

I hadn't thought it possible, but Loki amped up the creepiness come next Monday. Whereas last week, he had contented himself with sending me smug smirks and slimy smiles a few times every hour, now he began staring at me without stop.

Tuesday began on a particularly bad note. He began staring at me since I handed him his coffee and had not stopped grinning at me since then. I tried concentrating on my book, flipping the pages more harshly than I should be, as if loudly turning them would snap the grin off his face. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him slowly, deliberately sipping his drink. The bastard even had the nerve to lick his lips, flicking the tongue way more flamboyantly than he needed to. I blinked, trying to regain my concentration. The words had long stopped making sense and I realised I had been reading and rereading the same page for the past five minutes. Then came another curl of the tongue and I lost it.

"What?" I snarled, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing my frustration.

"Lady Scandal," He said quietly, his voice dripping with mockery. Coming from Thor it had sounded cute; coming from Loki it sounded as sonorous as phlegm.

My head shot up and I glared at him. The amount of satisfaction and malicious joy on his face at my cave in almost made me weep. It thew me off. It was too similar to something I vaguely remembered seeing. It wasn't a leer, but for some reason it struck me as being almost sexual. With a start, I realised that I had seen that look in some weird context all too recently. Bizarrely, the Starbucks logo came to my mind and then I remembered.

 _Frappucinos. Whipped cream. Whipping._

My dream from last week.

I averted my eyes in panic to the clock behind him - thankfully, it showed our hour was almost up. I had managed to successfully suffer in silence for most of the time. I was not going to be able to treat myself to a fancy dinner, but it was still a small victory. But I didn't care about that now, for my priority was to hide my face away. The bastard had no idea what was wrong, but I feared that somehow, he'd be able to see my shame on my face and put two and two together.

He cocked his head, his gaze challenging me to kick up a fuss.

I sunk into the sofa, more out of a need to hide myself than out of a sense of ease, and asked tersely, "Yes?"

He had the gall to look affronted. "Where is the respect? Where is the courtesy, _my lady_?"

Of course, my dream chose to replay itself in all its dirty detail in my mind at that moment.

 _You know you are to call me 'sir' at all times, do you not?"_

 _"Yes, sir."_

"Stop it," I said out loud. " _Sir_." It was a mystery how I had managed to not gag on the word.

"Stop what, _my lady_?" He grinned.

"Calling me 'my lady,'"

"Come, now, _my lady_ ," He pouted. On anyone else, the pout would have looked childish. On him, it only looked callous. "You complain I am always horrible to you, but now that I am being nice to you, you want me to stop giving you the respect you deserve."

"How about you show your respect by calling me by my name?" I said, surly.

"Oh, but you were so enthralled when my brother called you that," Loki said, pleasantly. It set me more on edge than any unpleasantness of his could have. "Why can I not call you that? Would you not like that? Would that not make working for me more enjoyable for you?"

" _Nothing_ can make working for you enjoyable." I said, sharply. As soon as the words left my mouth, I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed myself. I bore no love for him, but I hated how shrewish and perpetually harangued I was becoming.

He reclined into the back of the sofa, looking at me coldly, face pinched and paler than normal. "If you think that your time here has been less than pleasurable, then you do not know the meaning of misery, worm."

"I think it's time for me to leave. Have a good day." I said, hurriedly and got up, for I had no wish to enact my dream in real life. A part of me chided myself for taking the easy way out instead of smoothening over things, but I was past caring. Over the course of the past two weeks, I had slowly but surely realised that this was how it was always going to be between us. The mutual hostility, his lack of respect, my unease and our disregard for each other were not ever going away. I was in the fourth week of my job and what had I to show for my efforts? Nothing. A big fat nothing. All I had done these past weeks was bring Loki coffee and lose my peace of mind. There was nothing I could do while Loki was restricted to his rooms. Even if he was allowed to go outside, he wouldn't ever be allowed to exit the Tower and he and I would continue to simmer in our mutual hatred.

I wasn't ready to quit yet, but I had begun strongly considering it. I didn't want to continue earning a salary when I was not deserving of it. More than that, I feared that Tony and Stella too would become aware of just how useless I was and would ask me to consider resigning. And, this time, I wouldn't be able to bully my way out of it.

"No." Loki commanded.

I turned around in surprise. He had never stopped me from leaving. On the contrary, he was indifferent most of the times and relieved in others when I said my goodbyes.

"Yes?" I asked, carefully. A small part of me was relieved that he wasn't done with me yet. It gave me more wiggle room to get things (relatively) back on track.

"Dispose this cup." He extended it towards me. I walked back towards him and took the cup from his hand. There was no expression of amusement on his face anymore.

"Okay. See you."

"Did I say you could leave?" He asked, harshly.

I stared at him, baffled. What had got into him? "What do you want, sir?" I asked politely, hoping it would be enough for now. I resolved to try harder and get over my silly act tomorrow. I was acting like a stupid puppy who was easily seduced by a pat, but I couldn't help it.

"My books are in disarray," He waved his hand towards a row of immense rosewood bookshelves to one side of the living room. "Sort them alphabetically. Clean the bureau as well. It is dismaying how you Midgardians can read and write on such filthy surfaces. And wash the plates in the kitchen too. That idiot woman they send to take care of the domestic chores is even more incompetent than you."

I stared at him dully. Any feeling of relief that had swelled in me was now deflated beyond measure. I said nothing; there was no point. He had just cemented my tentative decision. He was not going to change, so there was no point in continuing in this vein. I was going to quit the job anyway - why not resign myself to this latest humiliation, save my energy and go out with quiet dignity? He looked at me expectantly, probably anticipating my huffing and puffing. I turned away and walked up to the bookshelves and the bureau, willing but unable to check if he looked surprised at my lack of indignation.

The books – numerous as they were – took long to sort, but it was an enjoyable task. My feeling of disenfranchisement did not stop me from going over their titles. They spanned a broad spectrum of topics – from as mundane as history and linguistics to as esoteric as astrobiology and alchemy. Surprisingly – but thankfully – they were in English, so at the least I was spared the added shame of having to ask Loki for help. The bureau and the dirty dishes should have taken me longer to clean but I did not care for perfection. I was still his PR, not his housekeeper, and if he wanted to throw a tantrum about me not properly cleaning what was already spotless anyway, he could go ahead for all I cared. I did not have any fucks to give him anymore.

I felt his eyes on me every second of the way. I made a beeline for the door as soon as I was done, not wanting to entertain him for a second longer. Fuck him and his villainy and sadism. Fuck him and his attitude. Fuck him and his fucking frappucinos and whipped cream and crazy coffee orders. I was _done_. I did not meet Agent Robson's eyes as he escorted me back to my office. I assumed they were questioning and pitying in equal parts, but I did not feel the need to address either of those emotions. Once in my office, I fibbed to Stella about the day's rendezvous, as I wasn't keen on letting her be privy to my latest chastisement.

Then, I started working on the resignation letter.

* * *

"Is he a vampire?" Tony asked.

"What?" I blinked. He had called me up to his office to catch up with me. He had kindly provided Cheez-Its, Pringles and Cheetos – breakfast of champions. I wouldn't have minded sampling some of his liquor selection, but we stuck to fruit juice.

"Loki," He amended. "Is he a vampire?"

"N-no?" I asked. "Wait, is he?" I asked, alarmed.

"No, kid, he's not. Chill. In case nobody told you, Vampires aren't real."

"If Norse gods are real, then why not vampires?"

"Well, he does play the part of Edward Cullen very well. Tall, dark, diva, pale, constipated-looking."

I snorted. "Well, I can assure you, I'm not 'unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.'"

Tony shuddered. "Don't even joke about it, Scandal. The notion is terrifying, and not just because Clint would hack off my head if that ever came to pass."

"Clint? Why?"

"Oh, he has still not warmed up to me subjecting you to Loki. He was more upset than I was after I heard about your first day, and that's saying something!"

"He's been waking me up at 6 on the weekend, you know," I said, not a little petulantly. "To train me in self-defense."

"Yeah, he told me. He's surprisingly protective." Tony mused. "How's it going?"

"It's alright. I am a klutz. He keeps making me start a circuit from the beginning in case my form drops. And he insists I should work out every day." I wondered if Clint had told him about me checking out the Asgardians and having my water bottle tipped. I hoped he hadn't. It was bad enough for him to call me out on it, I didn't want Tony to hear about it as well.

Tony grunted. "Be glad it's him and not Nat. She doesn't know the meaning of 'going easy.'"

I grinned. "Speaking from personal experience?" When I had first started the job, I wouldn't have dared to be so chatty with Tony. But, now as we became more comfortable around each other and it became clear his sense of humour revolved around making borderline personal jabs, jesting with him became second nature.

"The first time I saw her, she tossed Happy in the air and choked him with her legs. So, yeah, you can say I have personal experience.

"Whoa," I whispered.

"I do remember going more like 'oh my god!' than 'whoa!' when that happened, but I excuse you."

"I wish I could do that. Clint said he might ask her to teach me how to defend myself in a dress and heels."

"Clint doesn't know when to stop."

"He's not bad; he's not a taskmaster and he knows and respects my limits. And, I really appreciate it. He doesn't have to spend so much time on me, but he does."

"He's a good man. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk about. You've been looking dead, kid."

"Thanks!"

"I'm serious. Loki _might_ not be a vampire, but it's clear he has been sucking the life out of you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." I didn't tell him what had happened yesterday. And, obviously, I didn't tell him about the resignation letter that I had started drafting – or rather, attempted to draft. Years of getting B+ or above in all my college papers and this is where my writing skills had come - barely being able to type two lines.

"I've been thinking about it," Tony leaned forward across his desk, "And I think you're right."

"Right. About…?"

"About Loki. About how I need to let him out."

I gawked at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. Don't get me wrong; it's a horrible decision. But, that's precisely why I've planned to go ahead with it. I have to keep up my reputation, after all."

"Tony… are you sure?" I asked. While I had mentally torn up the as yet computer-based resignation letter as soon as I had registered the words, I wasn't sure if unleashing Loki on the Avengers Tower was a good idea. I knew that he had had access to the penthouse before my arrival, but I didn't want to be blamed should something inevitably go wrong.

"Nope," He said, cheerfully. "But, you made sense. Sure, you were mistaken about Loki being this poor little angel bean, but you were still right. There's no point in doing PR if you're not going to show your face. He's still not going to set foot outside the penthouse, but I guess we will have to eventually set up the stage for his grand arrival. And, anyway, he hadn't been too bad when he had the free reign of the penthouse - but don't tell anyone I said that."

"What about the rest of the team? Do they know?"

"Well, considering they live there and have a chance of running into Loki, they will get to know eventually."

"Are you planning to tell them, though?" I asked, unsurely.

"I suppose I should," He sighed, "We're a bit… jumpy. But, no need to tell anyone other than Stella, okay?"

I nodded.

"Oh, and some ground rules. You will have to notify the SHIELD agents if you wish to take him for a stroll and Robson will still accompany you. This is more for your safety than anything else, so no arguments will be accepted. This isn't new to the agents, so they know how to stand far away to not make you feel uncomfortable, but close enough to rush in should anything happen. And, I'm not going to blame you for any shit he conjures, but you can't leave him alone when you're out with him. That doesn't mean you stand next to him at risk of mortal peril," He added, "But, if you want to pee, you either hold it in, or send him back and then dash to the toilet. Try not to pee on the spot, however; the carpeting is expensive."

I rolled my eyes. "Ha, ha!"

Tony grinned. "Off with you, kid. Have a good one and keep me posted!"

"You too!" I said and began making my way out.

"Oh, and, Scandal?" He called and I turned around. "Don't let him get you down, okay? There's still a long way to go and you've barely begun. Don't let him make you feel you're useless – it's exactly what he wants and thrives off. We can't let him win, you got that?"

"Aye, cap'n!" I saluted and walked out with a bitter smile. It wasn't Loki's opinion of me that made me so despondent. Still, Tony's words had given me the tiny bit of reassurance I needed to keep going. I'd rather disappoint him by not succeeding than by giving up before I'd even begun.

* * *

 **A/N:**

1\. Score: Reader - 1; Loki - 4.

2\. This chapter was a little bittersweet with asshole!Loki, but the next chapter should be fluffier and much more fun. Thank you to all the readers for all the favourites and follows and the 2000 views! You guys make it all worth it =)


	11. That Time We had a Power Lunch

_**Chapter summary:** You invite your client to a power lunch. What could possibly go wrong?_

* * *

It was noon when I went to Loki's apartment the next day.

"You are late." He greeted curtly as soon as I stepped inside. He had left the sofa today and looked as if he'd stopped midway in the middle of pacing up and down the room to reprimand me. His hands were clasped behind his back, posture as ramrod straight as always. The severity of his stance somehow made him seem even more irate.

"Yes, I am, sorry," I said easily.

He cocked an eyebrow and turned fully to survey me. "And, you have not brought my coffee. Must I teach you another lesson in obedience, worm?"

That sounded uncannily like something out of my dream and it was not easy to keep myself from flinching. "It is noon. I wasn't sure if you wanted coffee at this hour."

He took a step towards me. "It is not my fault you are here at noon rather than the hour we had agreed."

"I was just –"

"Quiet," He raised his index finger. "I did not give you the permission to speak."

 _Breathe,_ I told myself. _Don't lose you temper again_.

"Can I speak?" I said, more patiently than I was feeling.

He blinked, thrown off by my question and tone. It only took him a fraction of a second, however, to school his face into a neutral expression. "No."

I shrugged. Though his mask did not slip, I could sense that he was bemused.

"You do not keep a Prince of Asgard waiting, little worm." He said, silkily as he came another step closer. "However, I am a merciful god," He continued. "And, you have been a good little worm – for the most part. Tell me why you are late. I warn you, I will accept no feeble reason, so make it a good one."

"Well, it's not like you enjoy the coffees anyway," I couldn't help but quip. "Does caffeine even affect you?" My colleagues had told me about one party when all the guests had bet on how much caffeine Thor could intake before dying of a heart attack. All the coffee in the entire Tower had run out, but Thor stood as happy and steady as ever, albeit with atrocious coffee-breath.

"We have an agreement." Loki hissed. "You come, you bring me coffee, we play a little game and then, you leave. Of course, your incapability to bring me a decent a beverage is vexing, but that does not excuse you from your duties. You have already seen what happened when you kept me waiting. You do not wish to undergo that again, do you? Or if you do," He took another step closer and leaned forward slightly, "Then I can certainly oblige."

Nope, too much like my dream. Way too much.

"You don't even like me, leave alone like having me around."

"You are right. You are annoying and repulsive, but if I am expected to tolerate your presence, then you will come here, every day at the time we have agreed upon. Do you understand?" His tone had a weird edge to it - he almost sounded frustrated, as if he sought something that he wasn't sure he had.

"Yes. Sir." I said, the words as heavy on my tongue as they had been in that nightmare.

"Good," He smiled thinly. "Now, tell me why you were late."

"I was organising a lunch for us."

His lips parted slightly, almost preparing to ask a question, before he brought them together again. I took this as a sign to continue.

"I did it. I convinced Tony to lift your confinement," I said, a wobbly smile creeping on to my face. I hadn't thought of it in this way before, but it was true; I had won him over.

"And, what do you expect me to do?" Loki sneered. "Crown you as my apostle?"

"No, come to lunch with me, please. I ordered steaks. You like steaks, yes?"

I had had to do a bit of asking around to find out what the Asgardians liked eating. Sadly, I wasn't able to grill Thor, but Roisin from event management and a couple of others had hinted that meat was a good way to go. That bit of investigative journalism had taken more time than I'd thought it would, and then I had had to go and defend my idea in front of Stella. She hadn't been convinced – and had been rather ambivalent about Loki getting his partial house arrest lifted – but had agreed when I told her that this was no different from agencies wining and dining their clients.

After that was done, I'd had barely any time to research the best steakhouses and order some food. The best places were obviously too uppity to be takeout joints, but it was amazing just how much you could get away with it when you did PR for Tony Stark. I rang up Gallagher's Steakhouse and ordered a porterhouse for Loki and a tuna for myself. It was exorbitant and I had had a heartburn as I'd given my credit card details. I could have filed it under expenses, like I did for all the coffees. After all, money wasn't a problem for the Avengers and Tony didn't run through my expenses. Still, my conscience – and, I guessed, Stella – would not permit filing such a pricey meal, that too for Loki.

The curiosity on Loki's face returned tenfold. "Even if I liked the unappetising slabs of leathery meat you call steaks, why would I want to lunch with you?"

Good question. "Because it will be something different? From your daily routine, I mean."

"I do not know about the others, but I do not allow worms at my dinner table." He said, imperiously.

"That's great, you don't need to eat me. Just eat the steaks with me. Please."

A flicker of amusement danced on his face. "You have still not satisfactorily answered my question."

"It will be nice?"

"Not for me."

"You haven't even tried it."

"Nor do I wish to."

"Oh, please!" I whined. "Please, just humour me this once!"

"Well," He declared eventually and rubbed his index finger against his lips, as if in thought. "Since you have asked so nicely, I will allow you to serve me lunch here."

That was surprisingly easy. I had expected he would demand a blood sacrifice or flat out say no. Why was he being so acquiescent? "I'll serve it to you in the common kitchen."

"No."

" _Please,"_ I begged.

"How many times must I say 'no' before it permeates that thick skull of yours?"

"Please, I'll do anything!" The words slipped out before I could think them through. I gulped, regretting everything from my birth and onward as that familiar worrying smirk etched itself on his face.

"Anything?" He asked, silkily.

I gulped again. It was too late to take back the words. _It's okay_ , I comforted myself, _just because I promised him 'anything', it didn't mean I had to stick to my word._ It was an oath under duress, nothing more. "Anything," I said, shakily. Is this how young, virginal girls felt when they made a deal with the devil in all those gothic romances?

He looked delighted. "Are you sure?"

"Yes?"

"Do not make the mistake of presuming you can wriggle your way out of this," He went on, the delight on his face utterly ruining my appetite. "If you do so, the consequences will be severe."

"I won't," I whispered.

"Very well, then. Being the merciful god that I am, I will oblige you."

 _Thanks, Lord Voldemort._

"Thank you. Shall we?" I asked.

"After you, my lady," This time, the words were not thrown venomously but, to my astonishment, in a teasing sort of courtesy. To my greater surprise, he even threw me a smile, the first I'd seen that was without malice or mischief. I inhaled jerkily and nodded, then responded with a smile of my own – the first I'd given him.

I nodded at Agent Robson, who muttered something into his walkie-talkie, and then we walked out.

Immediately, the SHIELD agents flanked us, four on each side, two behind and two in front. Agent Robson walked alongside me. I looked at Loki from the corner of my eye, taking in his stride. He sauntered as if the agents were not his jailers, but his enforcers. There was neither cockiness nor fury on his face, only self-possession. He cut an impressive figure and though a part of me disliked how he could be so unruffled after causing so much misery, another part of me wished I too could carry myself with such confidence. We reached the top floor and the agents arranged themselves around the immense living room. Save for our party, the floor was empty, just as I had expected it to be at this hour. I stepped outside for a few seconds and returned with the goods from the delivery boy and a hefty credit card receipt.

Loki had perched himself on one of the barstools – the same one I had sat at my interview. I put the food in front of him and scrummaged for some glasses, plates and cutlery. It irked me to set up the table for him like an actual servant, but I reasoned that that was the kind of service he had always been used to. Anyway, it was too trivial a matter to start a fight over. I settled into my own chair, opened the packet, pushed his food towards him and prepared to attack mine. He did not touch his food, instead looking at it as if it would answer some existential question. I raised my head from my food, eyebrows high up my forehead in query. I didn't want to start without him – bad manners and all that jazz – but I was starving. Finally, he pulled it closer and began opening it.

"I was debating whether I should make you serve me," He said lightly, as he transferred the steak on his plate. "Then, I concluded that I do not want your wormy hands all over my food."

I rolled my eyes, tempted to grab his steak and fling it on his face, but chose instead to pay attention to him. He stabbed the meat and began slicing it, his movements precise and graceful. I was no stranger to using a fork and knife, but somehow, he used his cutlery as if he had received special training for it. He brought the chunk of meat languidly to his mouth. I, on the other hand, hacked and sawed through my food and stuffed it into my face. On top of that, my hunger only made my movements clumsier. He repeated his motions methodically, his face displaying no interest or disinterest, or satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the food.

"Well?" I asked after a few minutes, "How is it?"

He swallowed the morsel down – I tracked the bob of his Adam's apple – and looked at me coolly.

"If you don't like it," I gushed on, "You can say so. It's okay. You don't have to lie to me."

He arched an eyebrow. "Why in Hel would I lie about my satisfaction?"

"Well, they told me you were the God of Lies."

Loki huffed and rolled his eyes. "Your attempts at humour are pathetic." He scoffed, but I grinned, for I sensed that he was rather amused.

"Well? Did you like it or not?"

"It will suffice."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Though this was the first time we were eating together, it wasn't awkward. We had grown used to doing our own stuff in silence. I reached for my glass of water and almost tipped it towards my mouth before I remembered what had happened the last time I'd taken a drink in Loki's presence. I angled my body away and kept an eye on him while I drank. He, of course, noticed and smiled at me innocently, but his eyes glinted with manic glee.

"Had a chance to worship my brother recently?"

I shook my head.

"No? Have you found someone else to adore?"

Oh, dear god, _no_. What were my talking points, again?

"No," I croaked, my thirst all but gone.

"No?" He asked, thoughtfully. "I could have sworn there was someone."

"Aren't you – aren't you curious why I was training with Clint?" I asked, trying to throw him off.

"Oh, that does not require much thinking. Agent Barton enjoys looking out for people. A terrible quality to have in an assassin."

I shut my eyes. Why had I thought I could distract him? Obviously, you didn't get to conquering a planet without being more perceptive and cunning than a rookie PR.

"You would have to try harder than that to distract me, little one," Loki said, confirming what I was thinking.

"Worth a shot." I mumbled.

Before he could frame a reply, a woman's voice came through.

"Tony?"

I froze. Barely daring to look over Loki's shoulder, I registered whose voice it was – Pepper's.

That wasn't bad and I reclined in my seat. She would be surprised, alarmed even, but she knew that Loki was in the Tower. All my hopes and dreams crumbled to dust, however, when I saw another figure appear behind Pepper. I slammed my glass on the counter and leapt up from my chair, almost stumbling face-down when my foot snagged on the base of the barstool. I righted myself and skittered forward. I had to calm myself down. Loki was like a shark; one sniff of fear and he would set me down the trail of certain doom.

"Pepper!" I said in a quivering voice.

"Oh, hey! Have you seen Tony?"

"He left. He's in his office." I lied. I very well couldn't mention that she needed to leave in front of the other woman – her assistant, I presumed.

"I just came from there and there's no sign of him," She sighed. "Anyway, what's up with you? What are you doing here?" She looked around the room and then her eyes stopped right behind me.

Her panicked eyes met mine and I silently urged her to leave.

"I'll just check his office again!" She said, her voice significantly higher in pitch than two seconds ago. "Come on, Mary!"

She swiveled around so quickly on her pumps, she nearly twisted her ankle. I and Mary made a dash for her and helped her regain her balance. Pepper gripped Mary's hand and almost began dragging her away when I heard Loki speak up from right behind me.

"Virginia," He said, pronouncing 'virgin' more salaciously than anyone ought to have.

I imagined I could hear her gulp as she ever so slowly turned around. "H-hi, L-" She stopped herself before she accidentally said his name.

Loki's eyes shone and I knew that even if he hadn't figured out the problem before, he had figured it out now.

"How are you?" He asked, smoothly.

"Fine! Fine!" She chimed. "I'm in a rush, sorry! I'll catch you later!"

"What is the rush, Virginia?" He again said her name in a way that would make the dourest matron blush.

"I need to find Tony," She said, no steadier than before.

"He will find his way back to you," He said. "Meantime, introduce your friend to me." He glanced at Mary.

My blood ran cold. I was on the verge of hyperventilating any second now. Dimly, I wondered whether pretending to faint – or actually fainting, given how close I was to it – would get us all out of this situation. It might get me and Pepper out, but it would only get Loki off.

"Hi!" Mary trilled, to my mingled astonishment and horror. "I'm Mary! I'm Pepper's PA!"

"Enchanted," Loki murmured and, to my even greater incredulity, clasped her right hand and brushed his lips against it.

The brunette assistant giggled out of coyness, and I giggled out of nerves. Damn it, my brain wasn't working! I saw Pepper trying to catch the attention of the SHIELD agents, but they were hesitating, preferring to wait rather than act in haste. I looked at Agent Robson, who was off to my far right. His eyes on me and his lips were moving in silence, deliberately, but I couldn't make out the words. To my dismay, he gestured the SHIELD agents to stand down. I glared at him, my lips moving furiously as I pointed at him to come here, when Loki spoke up again.

"How are you, Mary?" Damn it, why was he saying everyone's name as if he was recording ASMR?

"Oh, good, thank you! How are you?" She beamed.

My jaw dropped. Why was she acting so at ease around him? Did this woman not know to whom she was talking? And was she – heavens forbid! – _flirting_ with him?

"All the better for having seen you, my dear," Loki murmured.

The girl dissolved into further giggles and I dissolved into silent hysterics. I was too consumed by my internal suffering to see Pepper's reaction, but no doubt it was similar to mine. We were prepared for Mary exchanging greetings and going back to business. We were ready for Mary to start screaming in terror. Neither of us, however, was anticipating _this_ – whatever _this_ was.

"What are you, the wolf from red riding hood?" I said weakly, surprising myself. I didn't think I was ready to form words yet.

Loki didn't even turn to me when he said, "The big, bad wolf, Red."

I coughed loudly. The man was a walking-talking harassment suit – and that was the least problematic thing about him. "Pepper, Tony might be back in his office now."

"Yeah! Yeah!" She said, gratefully. "Come, Mary."

"Nice to meet you!" Mary grinned again. What was _wrong_ with this woman?

" _Lovely_ to meet you," Loki supplied.

"Oh, I'm sorry," She said meekly, "But, I didn't catch your name."

There was a split second of pin drop silence. Pepper stopped in her tracks, I froze and Loki's grin spread from ear to ear. He inhaled, pausing for dramatic effect before he delivered the coup de grace. "I am L-"

"YEURCH!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and pointed in the opposite direction. Pepper and Mary jumped half a foot into the air and all the SHIELD agents sprang from the sides to the middle of the room, guns and other paraphernalia pointed in various directions – some at us, and some in the direction I was pointing.

"Heheheheh," I giggled like an imbecile. "Oh, oh, sorry. I thought I saw a spider. Huge. A huge spider. Sorry."

My face was flushed and hot from both shame and dread. Everyone looked everywhere for no one knew what to do – except Loki. Loki looked at me, his eyes glinting with mirth. _'Deftly done,'_ they seemed to say to me.

Pepper – finally – took advantage of my diversion and hauled Mary out of the room. I was pleased to see Mary looked discomfited now, but displeased to see that it was more from the thirteen men with guns jumping to surround us rather than from Loki himself. My limbs continued to shake and sweat for a few more minutes, fists repeatedly clenching and unclenching as I tried to let go of the tension. Fortunately, the burden of taking the initiative was taken off me, when Agent Robson and the SHIELD agents placed themselves into formation and demanded cooperation in no uncertain terms.

The walk back to his apartment seemed to take lesser time than the walk from. My legs continued to tremble and I had to catch myself from collapsing on multiple occasions. Whereas he had not once looked at me during our walk to the kitchen, now Loki did not take his eyes off me. It was making me more jittery.

"I believe one of your Norse myths bears some similarity to the tale of this 'Red Riding Hood,'" He began, conversationally, as if he had not just almost confessed his true identity to an unsuspecting assistant. "Þrymskviða, you call it. It tells the story of Thor disguising himself as a bride to reclaim Mjölnir. Of course, like most Midgardian tales, it is woefully inaccurate. Thor only dressed up as a woman to prove he could be a better woman than me, the pudding-head. Throughout the rest of the evening, I had to make excuses for his behaviour, much like the way the wolf tried to justify its poor imitation of the grandmother. Still, I would give much to see Thor in a bride's gown."

I looked up at him I disbelief. "Better woman than you? What?"

"I have _many_ talents, little one." He leaned closer to me, his eyes alight with mischief. "Maybe I will show you some of them one day."

"Shut up," I said through gritted teeth, simply _done_ with his bullshit and his Norse tales and his annoying borderline-flirtatious remarks. "Shut the fuck up!"

He drew back in displeasure. Before he could berate me, however, I interrupted.

"You almost ruined everything! Do you have any idea how much trouble we could have been in? Heck, we already are in so much trouble! That woman could have recognised you! What if she does? What if she goes out and tells everyone that you are here! Do you even know how much shit you've landed us in?"

"Do you think I care?" He said sharply. "Do you think I care what happens to you or Stark or any of this fool's folly that the two of you are conjuring up here? Your band of misfits can keep me locked up in this hideous tower, but you cannot control me, wench! You can keep me imprisoned but you cannot still my tongue!"

"There's no need for that!" I screeched, beyond reason now. "You're so interested in Norse myths, so it's only fitting that we sew your lips shut rather than still your tongue!"

Loki snarled and stepped closer to me. I stumbled back, but before he could do anything, Agent Robson stepped in front of me.

"Step through the door, sir." He said, evenly. I looked to my left and saw that we were right in front of the apartment and the door was wide open. Loki glowered at me, his shoulders tense and hands curled into fists.

"You have disrespected me for the last time, maggot," He continued, ignoring Agent Robson. "I am the heir to the throne of Asgard and the rightful king. You will not –"

"Any man who must say 'I am king' is no true king!" I roared. For a moment we both stared at each other in disbelief; he in shock about me having come up with the mother of all burns, I astounded I had actually quoted Game of Thrones to him in a totally serious context. I knew not whether the SHIELD agents understood the significance of what I had said, but they tensed, for it didn't take a pop culture geek to figure out shit was going to go down.

"You _dare_ taunt me, Stark's wretched footlicker?" He spat. "Very well. The next time you set foot in my room, I will teach you a lesson that will have you and your unborn spawn howling for generations and _nothing,_ not Stark, not Thor, not Barton, nor any god you invoke, will be able to save you from your fate."

Rage and terror mixed and ran through my veins, almost making me dizzy with their intensity. I was worried he was going to cut through Agent Robson and all the other agents, but was that going to stop me from yelling at a genocidal god who had proven he would have no compunction about killing me with but a twist of his wrist? No.

"Bring it on!" I screeched like a banshee and attempted to launch myself at him. Agent Robson turned his attention from Loki to me and almost tackled me to the floor as I continued, "Do it! Do it! I will claw that stupid smirk off your face if it's the last thing I do!"

Agent Robson had almost slammed me into the opposite wall to contain me. Loki smiled at me coldly and cruelly. Instead of instilling me with dread, however, this time his smile caused me to flay out even more like a woman possessed. I half expected him to pull Agent Robson off me and end my life right then and there, but without breaking eye contact, he marched through the door and slammed it behind him. I stared hard at the door, still kicking and panting, before Agent Robson gruffly said, "Enough!"

I stopped my struggle, exhausted. He let me off the wall and grabbed my elbow. "What the fuck do you think you were doing, miss?"

"What do you think I was doing?" I snapped.

"Don't take that tone with me!" He warned.

"Don't tell me what to do! Whatever happened to getting him out of there as soon as Pepper and that woman walked in? What were you doing then?"

"How do you think it would have looked if thirteen heavily armed men began escorting him away?"

"Better than it would have looked if he had actually managed to tell her his name!" I cried.

"Stick to doing PR, miss and leave the strategy and security to me." He ordered. "And if you ever talk to him like that again, I will pull you out of the room, kicking and screaming if I have to. I'm in charge of your security and I will not let you gamble with your life like that!"

"Whatever!" I growled.

He stared at me incredulously. No doubt, he thought me mad for my lack of self-preservation. I really wasn't suicidal and I had much better sense to kick the hornet's nest, but there was something about Loki that brought out the worst in me. The day had been going so well. And, wonders of wonders, he and I had actually been bonding. But, of course, he had to ruin everything when it was going right for me.

Agent Robson took a deep breath and then began tugging me by my elbow, not ungently, but not softly either. "We are going to Stark right now."

I nodded mutely; there was no use in protesting. The adrenaline was still coursing through me, almost numbing my brain to anything else. That, and the bizarreness of the situation were all that kept me from worrying about the tenability of my job once Tony got wind of what had happened.

* * *

 **A/N:**

1\. Score: Reader/Scandal - 2; Loki - 4

2\. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Think this was my favourite chapter to write so far!

3\. As always, I await all your comments and constructive criticism! 3

PS: Þrymskviða is an actual Norse poem where Thor dresses as a bride, and Loki the bridesmaid, so that they can recover Mjolnir from the bridegroom. Thor is horrible at pretending to be a woman - he ends up eating an entire ox - and Loki makes excuses like "she's so hungry because she's been so excited that she forgot to eat for seven days".


	12. That Time We Made an Apology

"Now that we're all assembled," Tony began, maintaining intense eye contact with every single person in the room before staring at Loki squarely, "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Thor, Stella, Agent Robson, Tony, Loki and I stood in a loose circle in the living room. Everyone looked at everyone, save for Loki and I. The two of us refused to acknowledge each other.

"The Midgardian harpy insults me and you have the audacity to chide _me_ , Stark?"

"The Asgardian _ass_ cannot behave himself!" I retorted.

"Go on, whelp. Give me more reasons to enjoy your extremely slow and gloriously torturous death."

"Enough!" Tony barked. "You!" He pointed at me, and for the first time I saw his anger directed at me. "You will get your chance to speak, so zip it. And you!" He pointed at Loki. "Enough with the name calling!"

"Tell me, Stark: would you be chivalrous and courteous to your subordinate if she were to disrespect you every step of the way and threaten you with bodily harm?"

Tony looked taken aback but fixed his expression quickly. "We're not talking about me here. And, you only get as good as you get. You may be a prince back home and expect people to kowtow to you even when you spit at them, but this is not Asgard."

Loki raked his eyes over every inch of the room and said, with more condescension than anyone could ever muster, "That is evident."

I rolled my eyes. His sarcasm was tempting me to make good on my threat. It had been two hours since lunch, but I was still charged up.

"Your current 'public relations' representative is more imbecilic than any of the previous morons you have sent my way." He continued. Then, turning to face me , he said, "I congratulate you; that is no small feat, given that they all were asinine loons. However, they at least had the imagination to read the documents on me and understand that I am _not_ an Asgardian."

"Same difference," I said, callously. Even though I didn't know how Asgardians and the race to which Loki belonged were different, I understood that there were differences. Of course, now that I was pissed off with him, I did not care about any similarities or dissimilarities.

"It is _not_ the 'same difference', you beef-witted primate!" Loki growled through clenched teeth.

"Whatever," I shrugged, taking no small deal of pleasure at how agitated he had become. I understood the reason behind it – the whole 'finding out I'm adopted saga' had been included in his files. "Guess I was right then; you are no true king. For, to be a king of Asgard, you would have to be _Asgardian_."

One second, Loki was in front of me. The next, he was right behind me, my back flush against his front and a strange sensation on my throat. I looked down. Something silver was pressed against the skin: a knife, I realised dazedly. I should have been terrified out of my wits, but my brain was foggy. All I could think of was that I had never been held at knifepoint before.

"Loki, get the hell away from her or I will –" Tony began.

"Tony, no!" Thor interrupted. He turned towards us, leaned over slightly with palms held out. "Loki, please."

"What say you, little worm?" Loki whispered in my ear, ignoring Thor, and I shuddered. "What? No more pretty words from your mouth? Not so outspoken are you, now? Tell me – should I cover your skin with a thousand cuts? Or, should I make a little nick around your jugular and let you bleed dry? Which would you prefer?"

I couldn't even breathe, leave alone form words. There was so much tension in my body. It paralysed my limbs, squeezed my lungs and choked my throat. I wanted to speak. I wanted to cry out – but even if I could have, I had no idea what I should say. All I could do was stare at Tony, Thor, Stella and Agent Robson with wide, confused eyes that wordlessly asked how – or if – I was going to get out of this situation.

"Loki, I will have Mjölnir go through your head before I let you harm a hair on her body."

"Really?" Loki barked a laugh. "Did you hear that, little worm? Thor wants to bash your skull into your brains with his magic hammer – because that is exactly what will end up happening if you attempt to do that," He snarled at Thor.

"Loki, please." Thor repeated.

I couldn't see how Loki reacted, but I gathered it was not promising.

Thor inhaled, then exhaled. "Brother, _please_."

Loki twitched and the knife shifted in position, causing me to twitch as well. "Do you really think calling me 'brother' would change anything?"

"No, it should not," Thor replied, "For you are and have always been my brother."

"I am not your brother." Loki hissed.

"Yes, you are." Thor insisted, sadly.

"No, I am not." Loki countered, but he did not sound as firm as before.

"And, she does not truly understand," Thor continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted, "She doesn't _know_ , Loki. For her, it is just snark and repartee. Let her go."

Loki's breathing quickened and the knife distanced itself ever so slightly away from my neck. Still, he didn't let me go.

"She is oblivious to our history and means you no more hurt than a startled creature retaliating in defense. Let her go, brother."

A tiny shudder ran through Loki's body. No one could have noticed it save for me. He wasn't going to let me go, I knew it. He would kill me right here and now, if not at his torturous leisure, for there was no way he was going to –

Suddenly, I found myself on the floor. I looked up from my spot, startled. Loki was glaring down at me, though he did not meet my eyes.

"Remember the day my brother's mercy saved your life, girl," He said thickly. "And know that I would not be persuaded like so a second time."

"Thank you, brother." Thor said.

"I did not do it for you!" Loki snarled. With that said, he turned around and began marching out of the room. Someone rushed over to me and helped me. Tony or Agent Robson, perhaps. I clutched him, feeling equal parts relief and confusion. Loki had actually let me go.

"Mr. Loki?" Stella asked, tentatively. I looked up to see her standing in his way. It was both an insanely brave and insanely foolish move, given that he was fresh off the heels of almost slicing my throat.

" _Norns!_ " Loki swore. "I am deluged with wretched mortals who have no idea what they are dealing with. Out of my way, woman!"

"Please," She said, just as softly but more firmly. "Wait a little. Your PR has something to say to you."

I did?

"I do not care for anything that wretched girl has to say. _Move_."

"She wishes to apologise to you." Stella said, quietly.

"What?" I rasped, having finally found my tongue again.

"Yes. She does." Stella repeated without looking at me, her tone inviting no discussion.

"I –" I began, still not sure what I wanted to say. Clearly, while my vocal chords were back to work, my brain still had trouble ticking.

"Your conduct was unprofessional at best and downright insensitive at worst." Stella lashed, finally looking at me. "You have not been given access to details about your client to turn them into personal attacks. How can you cultivate a favourable public image for your client if this is how you present yourself?"

"Stella, I have been –" I began protesting.

"No," She raised her finger to silence me. "I am talking. Did you not once think to bring up whatever happened with me and Tony? Did you not once think about what a mess it would've made of things if the situation had escalated? Did you not even think about your own safety? We have tried so hard to make sure you are comfortable and well-adjusted in your job. Did you not think about all the effort we've put in?"

I hung my head, unable to meet her gaze any longer. I was biting my lip very hard, but I didn't care about the pain. Back in the moment, I hadn't cared about my safety. The anger had felt too good – especially after the constant feeling of helplessness and uselessness. Now, however, when Stella contextualised it that way, every single point hit home harder than I would've liked.

"I'm not going to review your performance based on how old you are; I'm going to review your performance based on how well you did your job," She continued. "I can teach you the ropes. I can guide you along the way. I can give you advice. But, I cannot change your temperament or teach you deportment. Your behaviour reflects badly on all of us and my team and I will absolutely not let the actions of one of my team members ruin my team's and my clients' public images. So, please apologise."

I nodded and swallowed the painful lump in my throat. Unlike the last time when I had sassed Loki when I had told him he was too insignificant to punish, this time, I had fully intended to get under his skin. I had not expected, however, that I would hurt him to this extent. Professionally, I felt I deserved every word of Stella's rebuke. Personally, I wanted to burst into tears about how she'd taken me to task. It was unfair how Loki always came out on top, even and especially when things were his fault. It was unfair how I wasn't allowed to be angry, but he was allowed to be horrible. Most distressingly, a tiny part of me truly regretted my words. Stella was right: I had made it personal. I had been cruel in a way that even Loki hadn't been. It was simply not done.

I looked around the room. Tony was avoiding eye contact; this was the first time I'd seen him speechless. Thor looked sheepish, Agent Robson stared stoically into the distance and Stella looked impatient. Loki looked at me impassively. I could tell he was curious as to how I'd react. There was no enjoyment on his face at my humiliation. I hated that. If he had looked smug, if he had crowed over me, I could have muttered an insincere 'sorry' and been done with it. But now, I wanted to be sincere. I wanted to find the right words. Yes, I was still angry – he was cruel, mean and infuriating. But, for some crazy, twisted reason I did not feel angry at him. I was upset that I'd almost lost my life and clearly, his coping mechanisms needed even more work than mine did, but I grudgingly understood that he'd reacted that way not out of an impulse to have fun at my expense, but because he had been very hurt.

He had let me go not because it would have ended messy for him. As he had said earlier in the day and as I now completely understood, he may be under lock and key, but he wasn't under anyone's control. Rather, he had let me go because Thor calling him his brother had struck a chord with him. I had hit him where it hurt the most – however advertently or inadvertently – but the validation that Thor had given him outweighed any wound that I had inflicted. Distantly, I remembered the advice he had given me in my first week: prove your worth to yourself, not to anyone else. There had been just as much history behind those words as behind his actions today. He was not human, but he felt just as we did.

"I am sorry." I said, clearly, looking him straight in the eye. I couldn't find it in myself to be more articulate, but if I had ever been sincere, it was when I said those three words.

He regarded me for a long time. "I do not care for your petty words, little worm." He said, flatly.

 _Little worm._

I shivered as the last of the tension left my body. There was no acidity in his tone, nor a sneer on his lips. His voice was disturbingly lacking in any emotion, but I clutched on to that familiar insult. Despite my realisation, it was easier, of course, to believe him to be incapable of any kindness, regret and vulnerability than to accept that he was capable of any of it.

Without another word, he began making his way out, Agent Robson escorting him. I studied his retreating form. He was wearing Earth clothing again today – a white shirt and black slacks. These, too, he carried off well and I could see why Mary reacted the way she did. When he was dressed so, it was remarkable how human he looked. Maybe that's why Mary didn't recognise him. After all, neither was she expecting a supervillain to be crashing with the Avengers, nor was she expecting to see said supervillain in something as mundane as shirt and pants in lieu of his infamous green leather and gold horned helmet. In spite of the gloom of the situation, an idea began forming in my mind.

Then, Thor spoke up. "Thank you, my lady, for your words. You were brave in the midst of such censure."

I flushed and looked away, embarrassed. Heartfelt apologies always sucked the strength out of you, and this was no different for me. As much as I loved Thor's kindness and gentleness, it only chafed at me right now.

Blessedly, Tony spoke up. "Okay, show's over. Back to places everyone. Scandal, take the rest of the day off; there's not much left of it anyway. We should meet up tomorrow, okay?"

I could hardly have said no, but I sensed he was trying to make me feel better. "Yeah."

"9 o'clock, first thing tomorrow." He said.

I nodded. Thor and he left for somewhere else together. I had no option but to take the elevator with Stella. Awkward elevator ride descriptions on Reddit had nothing on what I was going through right now. I looked at her from the corner of my eye, using my hair to shield my face. I half wanted to say something to her, and half didn't want to. A big part of me felt angry at her, even though I knew she was in the right. Still, I wanted things to go back to how they were. For her part, she did not look eager to broach any conversation and walked out stiffly as soon as the doors opened. The doors closed and it took me a while to realise the elevator was not moving, for I had not pressed the button for my floor.

Just as I was about to press it, I remembered that my purse and phone were still at my desk. I debated whether I should go collect them. On one hand, they were my phone and purse. On the other hand, the prospect of walking into the office suite red-faced and having to act cool and casual in front of the rest of the team – or worse, running into Stella – terrified me. I reasoned I could return to the office to collect my belongings once it was past six. I could easily live without my phone till then and find refuge in Netflix. Glumly, I pressed the button of my floor and began the journey down. I realised if I were to be fired tomorrow and never be able to be a PR again, I could easily become an ideal subject for studying social anxiety.

I didn't take the rest of the day to finish my resignation letter, or rediscover my outrage, or drown in self-pity. Instead, I thought about how explosively vulnerable Loki had been, not unlike a cornered animal. I kept stroking my throat - more out of nervousness than actual pain. There wasn't even a tiny scratch there. Even when he had been more furious than I'd ever seen him, he hadn't lost control. It should've filled me with anxiety and fright, but all I could focus on was how I might be wrong – how there could be another side to Loki. I was still hoping that I had been right before, that Loki was incorrigible, but I couldn't deny that I wanted to be proven wrong.

* * *

"I'd offer you whisky, but I'm pretty sure Pepper added somewhere that I can't share my booze when I and my employees are on duty." Tony sighed. "Of course, she couldn't get me to not drink when I'm at work." He promptly proceeded to pour himself a glass.

"Not to mention, it's only nine in the morning." I mumbled.

"Your point being?" He drained his glass in one gulp and poured himself some more.

I looked at him curiously. He looked haggard. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever and there was a yellowish tinge to his skin. I tried to not jump to conclusions. "Tony… are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He dismissed.

"Are you sure?" I didn't want to overstep my boundary, but I was concerned.

"Damn it, Scandal, I'm fine!" He snapped.

I bit my lip and looked down to my lap.

He muttered under his breath. "Kid, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

"It's okay," I shrugged. His tone had stung but I didn't hold it against him.

"You don't have to look out for me, kid. It should be the other way around." He said, gently.

"You don't have to look out for me, either. But, there's no harm in it going both ways."

"It's just the work. The stress. The usual."

"Okay."

"And then there's you and Loki." He sighed loudly.

"Tony, I'm –" I started.

"I know you are." He cut me off before I had to say the words and I was grateful for that small mercy. "And I get it, okay? No one in this tower hates him more than I do. Funny thing is, Clint should be hating him the most, given how Loki played with his brain like it was Rubik's Cube, but I am the undisputed president of the Loki Hate Club. And yes, sometimes I really want to smash that ridiculous helmet of his and gut him with one of the horns. But, here's the difference: I can afford to do that. You can't. What if you'd died, Scandal?" He said, hoarsely.

I looked at him, dumbfounded. It was one thing for me to believe I was in mortal peril – it was another for Tony to believe that I was going to die. Even in my state of terror yesterday, I had thought Tony and Thor would be able to get me out. Now, however, hearing him say that he had been just as helpless as me drove home the point that I had been in more danger yesterday than I had thought.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, shakily.

Tony stared at me in disbelief, then exploded, "You almost died and you're apologising to me? _I_ should be apologising to _you_!"

"You don't have to!" I said, hurriedly.

"Scandal, do you actually comprehend the extent of the situation yesterday? Robson was absolutely useless and I couldn't do anything. _Anything_."

"Tony…" I said gently. "I'm fine. That's all that matters. Please stop being so hard on yourself."

"I'm shocked he didn't do it. It was sheer, dumb luck he didn't go all Revenge of the Sith on you."

"Thor talked him down."

"Honestly, I should put Thor on the payroll. He should do Reindeer Games' PR because he always takes his side."

"That's not really true."

"I should fire you." He said. Though that made me start, I knew he was just rambling from all the stress. "Well, maybe not fire you, but transfer you to Stark Industries. Pepper likes you, she'll take you on!"

"I'm sure Stella would agree on the former." I said, miserably.

"You don't hold it against her, do you? Yeah, the whole 'apologise-in-front-of-everyone' was harsh, but you did go a bit too far. Not to mention, of course, you almost died."

I nodded, even more miserably. I knew Stella was right. But, that did not stop me from hating her at the moment. I was being childish, but I couldn't help it.

Tony sighed again and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. "You are too emotional, kid."

I raised my eyebrows and couldn't keep the indignation from my voice as I said, " _I_ am too emotional? Tony, _I_ am the one who almost got knifed, but _you_ are the one who's practically crying!"

"What do you expect me to do? Pop open a champagne your head is still attached to your body?"

I winced. "Tony, I'm just saying, you've already looked out for me so much. You don't have to keep doing it."

"It is my job to look out for you," He grunted and gulped down yet another glass. I tried to keep the disapproval from my face, but probably failed. "Every boss should look out for their employee. Especially if the boss is an Avenger."

"No boss looks out for their employee to the extent you do."

"Oh, come on. If you were in my place and I in yours, you would've looked out for me the same way."

"I don't know. I don't think I'd ever be so committed towards my team." I replied. Then, to lighten the mood, I added, "Besides, you'd actually sass him so much that you'd be dead before I even found out about it."

He raised his glass to me. "That's true. Don't be like me, kid. Stay alive."

"Clint said something similar."

"Listen to Clint. Don't listen to me." He drained his glass and added, "When he hears about what happened, he'll kill me, I'm sure of it. Would be a shame if I let this whisky go to waste. Do me a favour, Scandal. Don't go to Loki today. And, meet with Stella, won't you? I think the two of you need to clear the air."

"So... you're… you're not firing me?" I asked, smally.

"No," He scoffed. "No. I'm the last guy to punish someone for being impulsive and emotional. Why, do you want to leave?" He asked, seriously.

I immediately shook my head.

He sighed again. "Not your brightest decision, kid. I should let you go. I really should, for your own sake. But, I feel you haven't yet used up all your yellow cards. And, I am beyond surprised that Loki did what he did. Maybe his time here _has_ done him some good."

I must have made an odd face, for he added, "I know, right? It's weird. I'd rather see him as the supreme evil. But, I like to run all permutations and combinations. I think you and he can work out something new. Maybe. But, I am warning you," He leaned forward and his gaze became hard. "If you even _think_ about sassing him or making fun of him again, I _will_ fire you. It's not because he doesn't deserve it, but because you are worth much more than he is."

I nodded solemnly.

"Now, is there anything else?"

My heart pounded. "Yes… But, I wanted to bring it up with both you and Stella at the same time."

"Well, talk to my PA. She'll fix something up. Have a good day, kid."

"You too!" I got up and left his office and made my way straight down to my office. I entered the suite, flustered, trying to gear up for the truly painful part. I went up to Stella's cabin and knocked timidly.

"Come in!" She called.

I gulped and went in. Her expression did not change when she saw me. As much as I wanted to be away from her, I also wanted to mend things between us. She had been harsh when she had made me apologise publicly and I held that against her, but I also understood it had sent out the right message. And, at the end of the day, I wanted my mentor back.

"Can we talk?" I asked, fiddling with my thumbs.

"You will have to make it quick; I have a meeting in 15."

I licked my lips and nodded.

"Sit." She said, crisply and looked at me expectantly.

I took in a breath and began. "I wanted to say I am sorry. I am sorry for my conduct and for how it reflected badly on you and the rest of the team. It is especially unfair to you because you have invested so much time in me even though you didn't have to. I am really, really sorry."

She stared at me for a long time. I wilted from the sharpness in her eyes. Just as I was beginning to think she wasn't going to say anything and began getting ready to excuse myself, she spoke.

"I remember in your interview you had talked about the power of words. About how words can make and break a reputation and shape opinion. That had impressed me. I had thought that you understood intrinsically what some people only learned after years of working or studying, and more commonly, what most people never learned. Words are powerful. Words are long lasting. But, you misused them. You used them to your detriment and to everyone else's. So, I wonder, did you really mean what you said in the interview?"

I realised she wanted me to answer. "I did. I am sorry."

"You could say sorry a million times to a million people, but it would change little. Whatever effort you had made has already been washed away. We are even further back than we had started. Let me tell you all the things that could've gone wrong: you could've died and Tony and my team would've been traumatised. Tony, especially, because I know he loves acting as a father-figure to you. Your family and friends would know no believable reason behind your death. Amidst the trauma of losing you, I and my team would have had to do something horrible like give your close ones false closure or hide the truth.

"Likely, it would have failed. Sooner rather than later, people would have found out what happened and no one would have trusted the Avengers ever again. In your interview, you had mentioned how the Avengers were subjected to negative scrutiny and you wanted to change that. Well, guess what? You would have brought them nothing but the harshest criticism and everyone irreparably damaged reputations and peace of mind."

"I am sorry." I repeated, not knowing what else to say.

"Are you?" She asked, tiredly. "Are you, really? Can you put aside your anger and impatience and frustration and learn to see the other side of the story and play to someone's strengths? Because, if you can't, then you are neither truly sorry nor are you in the right profession."

"I will try. I will do whatever it takes. Please, give me another chance. Please."

Stella shrugged. "Try away. I really don't see what you can do now."

"There must be something," I pleaded. "Please, help me. I promise I will do whatever you say, as you say, I swear it."

"I genuinely don't know and I do not have the time right now to think about it." She stood up and began putting on her suit jacket. "I can only suggest that for now, you stop visiting Loki each day and let time pass and egos mend."

I nodded. "Yes, of course. But... I also had something else in mind."

She said nothing but gestured for me to go on.

"I would like to discuss it with both you and Tony at the same time."

She picked up her phone and scrolled through it. "I don't have any time today and the only times I'm free tomorrow are 8 in the morning and after 7 pm tomorrow. But, since it's Friday, Tony will not be available after early evening, if at all throughout the day. Work it out with his PA and let me know." She said and left without another word.

I shot his PA an email and after some discussion and much cajoling, Tony agreed to meet at 8 am tomorrow. Though the apologies and reprimands had stripped me off my strength, I felt a small twinge of excitement. I opened my laptop and cracked my knuckles. I had work to do.


	13. A Note

p style="text-align: left;"strongAuthor's note:/strong I have stopped updating this story over on FF, but it's still going strong on my Tumblr and AO3. Currently, it's at 42 chapters. If you wish to continue it and are still interested in it, feel free to hop on to those platforms. The story name and my account name are the same on those platforms as it is here. Thank you to those who have been reading this and I hope to see some of you over on the other sites! 3/p 


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